An accidental marriage
by Cheringin
Summary: There is a magical Vegas, and it's pretty damn awesome. Hermione goes partying for Ginny's hennight, gets drunk and wakes up married to someone unexpected. Unfortunately, Magical divorce isn't as easy as the Muggle version, and when the papers get wind of what happened... Well, let's just say that Hermione's eighth year is not going to be what she expected it to be.
1. One: The morning after

**New story! Those of you who came here after reading Safehouse, welcome back! This story is going to be different and far less serious. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to post it, but it kind of ran away with me so I figured I might as well share it. Let me know your thoughts!**

* * *

She woke up with such a pounding headache that she wished she could have remained unconscious for a few more hours. She would have tried to go back to sleep, but unfortunately her blather disagreed with that notion and decided that it was of the utmost importance that she used the loo at this exact moment. With a groan she sat up and headed towards the bathroom, still in a haze of sleep and alcohol. Her head felt so heavy she was unable to keep her eyes open, causing her to almost fall over a pair of shoes when she made her way back to the bed after peeing, already looking forward to a few more hours of slumber.

She burried her face in her pillow and waited for sleep to come, but it didn't. There was a vage feeling niggling in her brain, something that should be important.

What could possibly be more important than sleep at this point? She couldn't even form a coherent thought in her mind, for Godric's sake, surely whatever it was could wait for a few hours?

She opened her eyes in shock when she finally realized what was bothering her: The shoes laying in the middle of _her_ room were not her shoes!

She lifted herself up on her elbow and surveyed the floor. Sure enough, there was a pair of black, very expensive looking men's shoes. And not too far from that, black trousers laying crumpled on the floor next to her dress which appeared to be pretty much ruined. Oh my.

What on earth had happened last night? Her brain finally seemed to realize that she was in a rather distressful situation, and suddenly she was wide awake. Now she heard loud breathing come from somewhere behind her, on the other side of the king-size bed she supposed.

She should probably turn around and see who it was, but she was terrified of what she might discover.

Her breathing started coming faster when she realized that she had gotten very drunk and shagged someone, and _that she couldn't even remember who it was._

She was Hermione Jean Granger, bookworm extraordinaire, not the kind of girl that had one night stands! Not that there was anything wrong with that, mind you, girls should be allowed to sleep around as much as they wanted to, but it was just something that _she_ would never do.

And yet, she had. Oh Gods, this was probably Ginny's fault. She had been nagging her all the time about having some fun now that she had broken up with Ron ("I'm getting married, Hermione, that means I need to live all my slutty dreams vicariously through you!").

Ah yes, Ginny. This was definitely her fault. After all, Hermione would never have been in wizarding Vegas and gotten ridiculously drunk if it wasn't for the future Mrs. Potter's hen party, so even if Ginny hadn't pushed her into the arms of this stranger, she was still to blame.

Oh Merlin, it was a stranger, right? What if, in some kind of drunken stupor, she had ended up shagging Ron? Oh no, that would be a disaster. Sweet Morgana, please, let it be anyone but him.

And still she did not turn around. Judging by the occasional snore, her... partner was still fast asleep.

It couldn't be Ron. Ron would never wear that kind of shoes, or such expensive slacks for that matter. Not to mention, he wasn't even in Vegas. She attempted to remember more, but after entering the third club and downing the eight (or maybe ninth, she had absolutely no idea) cocktail everything was pretty much a blur. Only vague flashes of drunken kisses and... _Oh._ The most mind-shattering orgasm.

Well that was a relief. She might have acted absolutely out of character, but at least she had fun. She took a deep breath and decided she should turn around.

She really shouldn't have turned around. There, in her bed, lay a naked Draco Malfoy.

For half a second she thought she would faint, then she ran back to the bathroom and managed to get to the toilet just in time to throw up.

"Oh my god, oh my god," she mumbled, sliding down to sit on the ground. "What the hell did I do?"

She wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Oh wait, not her sleeve. Judging by the size and material, she was wearing Malfoy's shirt.

That thought brought with it a new wave of nausea, and she emptied her stomach, feeling absolutely wretched. She stumbled towards the sink and drank as much water as she could, trying to get rid of the terrible taste the alcohol had left in her mouth. Only then did she look in the mirror. What she saw there made her pause.

She looked... thoroughly fucked, there were no other words for it. Her lips were swollen, she had several love-bites adorning her neck and her hair stood in all directions.

More so than usual, that is.

The pounding in her head intensified and she brought up her left hand to her temple. A twinkle caught her eye, her gaze was drawn to her finger which was sporting a beautiful ring.

.

.

.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Her loud yell broke through the silence of the hotel suite.

She could hear stumbling from the room, followed by Draco Malfoy in nothing but his boxers barging into the bathroom, brandishing his wand.

"What the hell?" he asked upon seeing her. "Granger?"

She was unable to speak, so she just held out her left hand.

He stared at the offending ring, mouth wide open. "What?" he mumbled.

"Do you remember what happened?" she asked urgently.

"Granger, I didn't even know I was in your room until I saw you. Please tell me this is all some big misunderstanding."

"I don't know," she said, trying very hard not to cry. "I don't know! All I know is that I woke up next to you, sore and hungover, and now I'm wearing a wedding ring. We're in Vegas, Malfoy! What if—"

"Let's not jump ahead of ourselves, now," he said, regaining his composure. "I might have fucked you, but I would never marry a Mud... Muggleborn, especially not you, no matter how drunk I was. You probably felt lonely and decided to buy yourself a wedding ring, so as not to be outdone by the Weaselette."

She grabbed the toothpaste next to the sink and threw it at him. He managed to duck in time, unfortunately.

"You're not helping, Malfoy," she fumed. "I can't believe I slept with the likes of you. I must have been drugged!"

He scoffed. "I don't need to drug a girl to get some, Granger."

"Still not helping! I need to find Ginny. Maybe she knows something."

She tried to get past him to the door, but he grabbed her arm and pushed her back.

"Don't touch me!" she yelled.

"You didn't seem to mind last night." He leered at her and she became suddenly aware that she was covered only by his shirt, giving him a good view of her legs.

"So you do remember?!" she shrieked.

He groaned. "Too loud, Granger, my head is killing me. And I just remember a few things, nothing that helps us with this situation. Unless you were somehow still doubting if we shagged, because I can assure you we did."

"Then let's find Ginny, we need to know what the hell is going on."

"No. I have a reputation to uphold, Granger, and no one is to know about this until we figured out what happened and we undo it!"

She crossed her arms on her chest. "I thought that you would never marry someone like me? Because if that's the case you have nothing to worry about now, have you?"

He glared at her. "Shut up, Granger. We're not going to involve anyone in this, do you understand?"

She sighed deeply. "Fine, let's do it your way. But I want a hangover-potion first."

"As you wish," he said, and mockingly bowed. She followed him into the bedroom where he immediately headed towards the mini-bar.

"I said a hangover-potion, not getting drunk again, Malfoy."

Without answering, he opened one of the cabinets and took out two vials with purple-colored liquid. "There is always a potion like this in magical hotels, Granger. But I suppose you wouldn't know anything about that now, would you?" he said snidely. He threw her one of the vials and immediately downed the other.

She fumbled to catch hers, and it almost fell to the ground. She would have killed him if that was the case, no doubt possible. Fortunately for the both of them, she succeeded in grabbing it. For about two seconds she hesitated ( _what if it's poison?_ ), then she decided she didn't really care and drank it anyway.  
The relief was immediate. The pain in her head subsided and her stomach calmed down, and she closed her eyes to savor the feeling for a second. Because there would hardly be cause for rejoicing for the rest of the day, she feared.

"Alright," she said, trying to think rationally and not start panicking, although the persistent thought _I slept with Malfoy_ was pounding in her brain. "Let's start by looking around, maybe we will find something in here that tells us about... You know."

"I would have expected a slightly better plan coming from the Brightest Witch of her Age." He spat the title which such venom that not even the most naive individual could have taken it for a compliment.

"Do you have a better idea?"

When he remained conspicuously silent, she shot him a very fake smile. "That's what I thought."

So they both started looking around the room, albeit grudgingly on Draco's part. It was Hermione who made the first discovery: she had gotten on all fours to look under the bed, ignoring the soreness between her legs as best she could, and found the ring.

"Oh crap," she muttered. It was very obviously a wedding band, and she was pretty sure it would fit exactly around Malfoy's ring finger.

When he noticed what she was holding, he snatched it from her hands and tried it on. A perfect fit. There was a moment of almost deafening silence, and they shared a look of barely concealed panic.

"Let's just keep looking," she said. "Maybe it was a joke, nothing binding. If it was a binding wedding ceremony, there should be a legal document somewhere."

"I think we were a bit too busy to hold a piece of paper all the way back to the hotel, Granger," he said scathingly. Then his gaze fell on his trousers.

"Unless of course..." He didn't finish his sentence but hurriedly checked the pockets.

Ah, there it was, the damning piece of evidence. With shaking hands, he flattened the crumpled document, and immediately his face became even more pale than usual.

"Well, it looks like your name is no longer Granger," he said, but his wavering voice betrayed his feelings.

"Oh God," Hermione moaned. "How could I have been so stupid?" She sank down on the bed and dropped her face in her hands. "What are we going to do?"

He sat down next to her, shoulders hunched, making sure not to touch her. "I have absolutely no idea."

Hermione had no idea how long they sat there, wallowing in their misery, when there was a knock on the door. "Hermione?" Ginny shouted. "You there, sleepyhead?"

The newly-weds looked at each other in alarm, before standing up in a frenzy. "Shit shit shit," Malfoy muttered. "What do we do?"

"The bathroom!" she whispered, almost pushing him in there and throwing him his trousers and shoes. As soon as he closed the door behind him, she grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt, hastily putting them on.

"Give me a second, Ginny!" she shouted. She opened the door to the bathroom, seeing a still shirtless Malfoy with trousers this time. She threw him his shirt. "Just don't make any noise," she ordered. "I'll get her to leave."

"Don't tell her, Granger."

"You think I want anyone to know about this?" she hissed. She headed back to the bedroom to let Ginny in, praying her acting-skills were sufficient to get the redhead out of here without asking to many questions.

"Granger!" Malfoy had followed her out.

"What the hell are you doing?"

He grabbed her hand to take off her ring. "That's a bit of a give-away, don't you think?"

She gulped, realizing how close they had come to being discovered. "Yeah, thanks."

He seemed surprised at her civility, but when Ginny knocked again he hurried to the bathroom.

Hermione took a deep breath and opened the door. "Ginny, calm down before you knock the door out of its hinges!"

"Oh thank Merlin you're alright!" the girl replied, pushing her way past Hermione and sitting down on her bed. "I was starting to think something happened to you last night."

Oh, so Ginny didn't know. That was something, at least. What should she say?

"To be entirely honest with you, Gin, I don't remember everything about last night. All I know is that I'm never, ever drinking this much again."

Ginny laughed. "Yeah, we all said the same this morning. What a night! And I'm not surprised you can't remember, you were really drunk. Like, really really drunk."

"You don't say."

"I mean, you kissed Malfoy."

"Yes, I seem to have some vague memories of that. Why didn't you stop me?"

"Hey, don't look at me, I was really drunk too. I hardly remember how I got back to the hotel."

They sat in contemplative silence for a while, Hermione mostly very relieved that no one knew about the wedding. (Ugh, she shuddered at the thought.)

"Anyway," Ginny said. "The girls are taking me to the spa we were talking about yesterday, we are leaving in an hour!"

That could actually work in her favor. "No offense, Gin, but I'm going to pass on this one. I just want to sleep all day, to be honest."

Ginny laughed. "That bad, huh? All right, I'll see you tonight!"

Hermione let out a relieved sigh when Ginny was gone, proud that she had been able to keep it together long enough.

She heard the sound of the shower turning on and cursed Malfoy all over again. This was her room, she should be allowed to shower first! He took his time, the git, and when he emerged from the bathroom at last he looked like a different man. That only succeeded in making Hermione more resentful, because she was fully aware that there was no way she could look even half as put together in that little time.

"We're going to see a lawyer," Draco said, already heading towards the door.

"Not before I've showered," she told him.

He sighed deeply, but nodded his acceptance. "They probably wouldn't even let us in with you looking like that."

She mustered the energy needed to throw him a half-hearted glare, but she truly was too tired to engage in his little battles at this point.

When they were finally both ready, it took far more longer than needed for them to get out of the hotel because Malfoy was acting paranoid.

"Do you even know a lawyer in Vegas?" she asked him, while he kept looking behind them to make sure they weren't followed.

"Yes. A friend of Blaise's mother," he replied curtly. Once outside of the apparition-wards of the hotel, he shot her a distasteful look. "We're going to have to side-along."

She merely nodded, resolved to be the mature one in this situation, and gripped his arm. They landed in front of an expensive-looking house with a sign that read _Logan Ferdinand, Lawyer._

Hermione and Draco shared one look before the Slytherin knocked on the door. They were ushered in by the lawyer's assistant, who was apparently terribly sorry to tell them that Mr. Ferdinand was busy, they'd have to come back in a couple of days.

That was until Malfoy told him Blaise Zabini was a close friend of his.

"Oh, really? What did you say your name was again, sir?"

"Draco Malfoy. Go and tell your boss it is an urgent matter, will you? Tell him I would be most grateful for his assistance."

The assistant agreed to do it and disappeared behind a door, leaving Hermione and Draco waiting in the most awkward silence.

"Mister Malfoy? Do come in."

An elder, well-dressed man invited them in his office.

"I was told this was urgent," he said. "And, in all honesty, I don't have much time, so if you would be so kind as to come to the point at once?"

"Of course, sir," Draco said. "Thank you for seeing us upon such short notice. I do hope I can trust you to be not only discrete, but non-judgmental?"

"Evidently," Logan Ferdinand replied.

"Granger and I got married by accident, last night," he spoke through gritted teeth, as if merely uttering the words caused him harm.

"I see," the man said. "And I expect you don't want to remain that way?"

"NO," they both said vehemently.

"Are you familiar with the laws regarding divorce in the magical world?" Ferdinand asked cautiously.

"Barely," Hermione admitted.

"Only that it's impossible after a traditional binding-ceremony, but that's not what we had," Draco said.

"Might I see the document?"

The lawyer took an unnervingly long time to look at the piece of paper, and Hermione could feel herself becoming more and more nervous as the seconds ticked by.

"It is as I thought," Mr. Ferdinand said at last. "The laws concerning divorce are far more stern in the wizarding world than in the Muggle world. Considering you two have managed to get married in the only instant-wedding place in the entire wizarding world, I'm afraid you are faced with a bit of a problem: Divorce is impossible until the husband and wife have been married for five years. Until then, there is nothing I can do for you, except perhaps give you some well-meant advice."

And then Hermione fainted.

* * *

 **That's it for the first chapter! Should I post the rest of it? The next chapter will be of how Hermione and Draco ended up married. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Two: A glimpse of a very drunken night

**This is a flashback to the night before, or one part of it at least. It's pretty short, so I figured I'd post it early. Next chapter will be back in the lawyer's office!**

* * *

" _Come on, Hermione, don't be a chicken!" Parvati crowed, while the other girls giggled. "Drink up!" Why had Ginny invited Parvati again? She wasn't even in her year at Hogwarts!  
_

 _"I think I've proved my courage more than enough this past year, Parvati. Whether I have one more drink or not is hardly going to have an impact on that," Hermione said, sighing. She was rather proud she managed to formulate that sentence, because no matter how sober she attempted to act, the truth was that she was well on her way to being drunk already. She wasn't exactly used to drinking, but she would be damned if the others discovered that.  
_

 _"You might be very brave against Death Eaters," Tracey, one of Ginny's roommates at Hogwarts, said. "But when it comes to things like this: drinking, boys, having fun,... You're not very good at it, are you? I mean, how long did it take you to make Ron see you as an actual girl? And you two broke up after a few weeks of dating, what went wrong?"  
_

 _"Tracey!" Ginny snapped. "Shut up!"  
_

 _Hermione scowled at the girl and downed the shot, coming to the conclusion that despite her principles she wouldn't survive the evening sober. "I guess we just have different priorities, Tracey. Some of us want to save the world, while others have no greater ambition than being drunk and flirty as much as they possibly can."  
_

 _"Bra-vo Granger," a male voice intruded in their conversation. "That was almost vindictive, I'm impressed."  
_

 _The girls all turned around, surprised at seeing someone they knew in Vegas of all places. Blaise Zabini smiled charmingly and turned towards Ginny.  
_

 _"I believe this is your night, Miss Weasley? Allow me to offer all of you ladies a drink, it's the least I can do."  
_

 _The girls giggled. "Why, yes of course, Blaise," Tracey said, attempting to sound seductive. "Why don't you join us?"  
_

 _"It would be my pleasure. I'm sure you don't mind if my friends come, too?"  
_

 _"Are they single?" Lauren, a Ravenclaw from Ginny's year, asked bravely.  
_

 _"That we are," Theodore Nott said, winking at the girl. It was only now that Hermione noticed the two men standing behind Blaise. Theodore Nott and Draco Malfoy.  
_

 _What an unpleasant surprise.  
_

 _Malfoy seemed to agree with her train of thoughts if the scowl on his face was any indication. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here, but Blaise practically pushed him in the booth next to where Hermione was seated and then sat down himself, which prevented Malfoy from making a quick escape. Hermione scooted as far away from him as she could, but the booth was rather narrow and she ended up squeezed between Luna and Malfoy, much too close for comfort.  
_

 _"So, what brings you boys here?" Ginny asked, apparently drunk enough to forget to be angry at Malfoy. Damn her.  
_

 _"Just celebrating our freedom," Blaise answered jovially. "Malfoy here just had his trial and was cleared off all charges."  
_

 _"Oh, yes, I heard," Lauren said, batting her eyelashes at the blond. "I'm very glad the Wizengamot made such a wise decision."  
_

 _Malfoy didn't even answer, too focused on drinking both his shot and Blaise's before the other boy could stop him.  
_

 _If it had been anyone but Malfoy, Hermione would probably have been relieved to find someone who found this whole party (and Lauren) as distasteful as she did, however it was Malfoy, so all she felt was a general discomfort at his nearness.  
_

 _"So, Ginny, if you don't mind me asking," Blaise said, after asking a waiter for another bottle of firewhiskey. "What makes you want to marry so soon? The War has only been over for a few months."  
_

 _"Oh, Harry and I are only marrying in December. We just figured that we would do the bachelor party before school starts, because we won't have time for it before the wedding."  
_

 _That was still early, Hermione thought. When Harry told her he had proposed, only a month after the Final Battle, she had been perplexed. Surely eighteen and nineteen was far too young to get married! But apparently marrying young was a common tradition in the wizarding world, and when she had seen how happy it made both Harry and Ginny she couldn't find it in her heart to voice her objections. She had no doubt that those two were meant for each other, so it didn't really matter when they got married, as long as they did.  
_

 _"Hermione?" Luna said softly. "You're crushing me, would you mind moving a bit?" The girl had a point, Hermione practically sat in her lap in her attempt at touching as little of Malfoy as possible.  
_

 _Draco had heard what Luna said, and smirked at Hermione. "Yeah, Granger, no need to be afraid. I won't bite... Unless you want me to, that is."  
_

 _The Gryffindor stared at him in shock. Was Malfoy flirting with her? He must've been drunker than he looked. She quickly checked to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation, but everyone seemed to be rather occupied, thank Merlin.  
_

 _"Not bloody likely." She quickly drank another glass, figuring she could use the liquid courage, and moved a little closer to him.  
_

 _Just a little. A centimeter at the most. No need to get too cozy, he was an insufferable git after all.  
_

 _Luna sighed deeply, realizing she wouldn't have any space to breathe for a little while at least, when suddenly Malfoy wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist and forcefully dragged her closer to him.  
_

 _"You're acting ridiculous, Granger," he whispered in her ear, and the feel of his breath on her neck caused a shiver to run up her spine. "You don't want to deprive the poor girl of oxygen now, do you?"  
_

 _"Like you care."  
_

 _"I don't, but Blaise will probably be rather cross if the party gets ruined because of a sudden death. And he is paying for everything, so I can't exactly afford to piss him of."  
_

 _"Is that how he convinced you to join us? By threatening to cut you off?"  
_

 _"Something like that," he said, his words slurred together.  
_

 _Ah. Definitely drunker than he looked.  
_

 _She giggled for some strange reason, because normally she_ never _giggled, and if she would do so, certainly not at Malfoy of all people. "I think you've had enough," she told him, and in an act of unexpected bravery grabbed his glass from his hand and downed it in one go.  
_

 _He raised his eyebrows and stared at her, surprised at her behavior.  
_

 _"I believe there should be a saying about a pot and a kettle here somewhere, but at this point I can't recall what exactly it was."  
_

 _He refilled both their glasses. "To the end of this terrible evening, the sooner the better," he said, and clinked his glass against hers. She chuckled at that.  
_

 _"That's the most accurate toast I've heard all night."  
_

 _She was so weirded out by the fact that she was having a civil conversation with her childhood-nemesis that she tried to distract herself by listening to what the others were talking about.  
_

 _Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, Tracey and Lauren were talking the most and had absolutely nothing interesting to say.  
_

 _"I, for one, can't believe we still have to go to school!" Tracey complained loudly. "It all just seems so pointless after a war, you know?"  
_

 _"I'd say it is pretty much pointless where she is concerned," Malfoy whispered, leaning too close to her in a typically drunken fashion. She found she didn't mind so much. If she ignored the stench of alcohol on his breath, he smelled rather good. Very manly. "No matter how much education she gets, I doubt she is going to get much smarter than this."  
_

 _Hermione almost spit her drink out laughing. When she looked at him, he had a smug look on his face. "I knew you were a bitch deep down, Granger. Your little goody two-shoes act never fooled me."  
_

 _"I can appreciate a joke, Malfoy. That hardly makes me evil."_

 _That set the tone for the rest of the evening: She would try to listen to the conversation around the table, but every time someone (usually Tracey, Lauren or Parvati) said something stupid, Malfoy would murmur disparaging comments in her ear. Had she been sober and slightly less annoyed, she would have berated him for being so mean, but as it was she couldn't help laughing every single time._

 _She didn't even notice Luna leaving to go dancing with Ginny, Blaise and Padma, and didn't comment when Malfoy casually draped his arm around the back of her seat. Before long, they started to have an actual albeit drunken conversation, and when the rest of her party joined the bride to be on the dancefloor, the two of them remained at the table, still sitting very close to one another._

 _A little later, but too soon for Hermione's liking, Ginny came to drag her away._

 _"Dance with me, 'Mione!" the redhead shouted over the music. "I figured I would come and save you from the Ferret's company, although you two looked remarkably cozy."_

 _"Yeah, he's not so bad when he's drunk," Hermione said, grasping the very pink-colored cocktail Ginny was holding and drinking it. "Hey, this is nice! I want one too!"_

 _"I think you've had enough," Ginny giggled. "I've never seen you this out of control!"_

 _"Oh don't be ridiculous! I'll go buy you one, Hermione, stay here!" Parvati said with a sly smile. Apparently she had made it her mission to get Hermione as drunk as possible this evening._

 _She came back with not one but two pink cocktails. "One is enough, thanks!" Hermione said, noting Ginny's disapproving look._

 _"Yeah, I bet you can't finish the other one anyway," Parvati said offhandedly._

 _"Excuse me? Of course I can!" Hermione said, and proved her point with a little too much enthusiasm._

 _Suddenly Lauren, Tracey and Padma were standing around her too, all with a gleeful look in their eyes._

 _"Hermione," Parvati said, enunciating dramatically. "I bet you can't make Malfoy kiss you."_

 _The other girls giggled, even Ginny._

 _"Ow, 'Mione. I see my friends have so little trust in you, you really should prove them wrong."_

 _Hermione was never one to back down from a challenge, even if that challenge was kissing Malfoy (although the thought wasn't as repulsive as it ought to have been. Oh well, she blamed it on the alcohol)._

 _"Fine," she said and headed back to the table where Malfoy was still seated, talking with Theo. When she sat down next to Malfoy again, Theo smirked and excused himself. Good, that worked in her favor._

 _"Granger, missed me already?" he drawled._

 _Now normally Hermione would have devised some kind of plan, but her thoughts were a blurry mess and when his tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his lips, she grabbed his collar to drag him closer to her and enthusiastically kissed him._

 _He responded in kind, burying his hands in her hair and coaxing her mouth open. The kiss quickly grew in intensity._

 _"I can't breathe," Hermione panted when she tore her mouth from his. "I need some air." She grabbed his hand and practically dragged him outside. He didn't seem to mind, and as soon as they left the building he led her into an alley and started making out with her, pushing her up against the wall._

 _He left a trail of drunken kisses down her neck, and she couldn't stop the moan that escaped her when he nibbled at her pulse-point._

 _This was getting out of hand, she thought, and in a desperate attempt to distract both him and herself she started talking._

 _"Did you know that the Muggle side of Vegas is far, far bigger than the wizarding side? Here, all we have are a few fancy hotels and clubs, but on the Muggle side there are plenty of places where you can gamble."_

 _This last tidbit of information seemed to interest him somewhat, and he pulled back just enough to look at her._

 _"Gamble?"_

 _She nodded. "Casino's. But those kind of games don't work amongst wizards, it's a bit too easy to cheat for us."_

 _He hummed in understanding and started kissing her again_.

" _Did you know that they also have chapels that make it possible to get married instantly, and that sometimes total strangers get married on a drunken night?"  
_

 _"There's one here too," Draco said at that. "One chapel. It's the place where pure-bloods elope to when they are trying to escape an arranged marriage."  
_

 _"Arranged marriages? But... That can't possibly still be happening now!"  
_

 _"It does, actually," said he, a frown marring his features. "It is common in all groups that value their blood. Most of the Sacred 28 from England still get married through an arrangement made by their parents."  
_

 _It took a while for her drunken mind to make sense of what he was saying, but when she understood she was aghast.  
_

 _"What about you?"  
_

 _"My father made sure to draft a marriage contract before being carted off to Azkaban. I am to be married to Astoria Greengrass as soon as she is of age."_

 _The look on his face made it clear that he was not at all fond of that idea.  
_

 _"But surely there must be a way to anull the contract!"  
_

 _"It's magically binding. I haven't put my signature on it yet, but the only thing that could possibly stop that is if I am married already."  
_

 _"So can't you just divorce her?" Hermione asked, genuinely curious. She wasn't familiar with the pure-blooded traditions, and found herself very grateful to have grown up in a Muggle family.  
_

 _"Nope. Marriages between pure-bloods are for life."  
_

 _Hermione looked pensive. She was still exceptionally slow because of the alcohol, but she felt like there was a solution in his words.  
_

 _"Yes!" she shouted out.  
_

 _He jumped. "What?" he asked harshly.  
_

 _"All you need to do," she said, waving her arms around enthusiastically and almost whacking him in the face in the process. "Is get married in that chapel, here, in a non-binding way, and then you don't have to sign the contract, and once it's null and void, you can divorce!"  
_

 _It sounded brilliant, to her own ears, and it sounded like hope to Draco. Or maybe he just really wanted to shag her, and figured that a wedding night was a pretty sound way of making that happen._

 _They would never know what exactly their motives were, but they did head to the chapel, and they did get married. And that's how our story begins._

* * *

 **I wanted to thank everyone who reviewed, favourited and followed. It's what keeps me going! Let me know what you think of this one!**


	3. Three: Can we panic now?

Hermione was abruptly brought back to consciousness by the ice-cold water that had been thrown in her face. Three guesses as to who's idea that was.

"Miss Granger?" Logan Ferdinand said, appearing worried. "Are you alright?"

She sat up carefully, still feeling weak. "I'm fine, sir, thank you. I apologize."

"No need, no need," he answered brusquely, before shoving a biscuit in her hands. "You ought to eat something."

She smiled gratefully and managed to stand up before sitting back down on the chair (which was slightly more comfortable than the ground) and started nibbling on the biscuit. It wasn't surprising, the fainting, considering she hadn't eaten all day. But she still didn't dare to look at Malfoy, ashamed of her moment of weakness. Instead she focused on Mr. Ferdinand. "I believe you had some advice to give us, sir?"

"Indeed. You will probably not like it, I'm afraid."

"Just spit it out," Draco said harshly. "It's not like it can get much worse than this."

"There is no conceivable way you can keep this a secret. Your name has automatically been changed to Hermione Malfoy in all your official documentation, so wether it is for a job-interview or your studies, people will know. Now I may not know all that much about the situation in England at the moment, but I am aware that you are both well-known, and especially you, Miss Granger, are frequently written about by the press. They will find out and they will publish it. The only way you can have even a semblance of control is by spreading the news yourself, instead of waiting for it to be published by a sensation-seeking journalist."

Hermione gaped at the man. "What exactly are you saying?"

"That if you don't want to be known as two irresponsible teenagers, you need to spin a story to it. Make the world believe you married for love, and make it sound good, and that is the way you will get the least backlash, I believe. But this is only my opinion, of course. You are free to do as you please."

* * *

When Draco and Hermione left the lawyer's office, it was with even darker moods than before.

"What do we do now?" she asked him. They might hate each other, but they were stuck in the same mess and that caused an inevitable sense of companionship.

"I don't know," Malfoy replied. "There's no way we are going to be able to convince the world we fell in love. The mere thought is utterly ridiculous."

"You don't say," she agreed.

He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, as if attempting to alleviate his headache, and said: "Let's go talk to Blaise, no matter how distasteful that idea might be. His mother is a bit of an authority when it comes to divorce, maybe he'll have something to tell us."

"Why should we tell your friends when we can't tell mine?" Hermione protested.

"Do you really want to tell your friends?" he asked incredulously. "Because if I could keep it from mine, I most assuredly would. I just don't know what else to do at this point."

"Fair enough. Let's go then."

And so they headed back to the hotel, and were invited in the room of a very shocked looking Blaise Zabini.

"Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger coming to see me together, now here's something I'd never thought I'd see," he said. "Can I offer you a drink?"

Both their faces morphed into a similar expression of disgust. "I'm never drinking again," Hermione muttered.

Blaise chuckled. "I see. What brings you here?"

Draco looked at Hermione, but she just shrugged. It's your friend, that gesture told him. You deal with him.

"I don't know if you noticed," Draco said. "but we both had a bit too much to drink, last night."

"I think everyone noticed," said Blaise.

"Yes, well, apparently we got married."

The silence was deafening. Hermione buried her face in her hands, embarrassed more than she ever thought possible, and then Blaise started laughing.

"That's a terrible joke, Draco."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and shoved their certificate in Zabini's hands. When the other Slytherin saw it, he paled considerably. "You idiot," he hissed at his friend. "That's for at least five years. What the hell were you thinking? Your mother is going to have a heart-attack."

"I wasn't exactly thinking, Blaise," Draco snapped. "Do you have any useful information for me? There has to be a way to undo this, an annulment or something."

"The only thing I can think of is if the marriage wasn't consummated."

Both Hermione and Draco blushed at that. Blaise took one look at their faces and burst out laughing again. "Never mind then."

"For fuck's sake, Zabini, this isn't funny!" Draco exclaimed, fed up with his friend's reaction. "We never should've come here."

"No, no! Yes you should. I'm sorry, man, I'll help in any way I can," Blaise hurriedly said, ceasing his laughter.

"How can you help?" Hermione asked despondently. "There isn't much we can do, I'm afraid."

"Perhaps not about the marriage, but you two are definitely going to need to do some damage-control, and let's just say that that is something of a Zabini specialty."

Both Draco and Hermione perked up a bit at that. "Is there a way to keep it secret?"

"No," said Blaise cheerfully. "Everyone is going to think you're drunk, foolish teenagers ruled by hormones. Your reputations, especially yours, Granger, will be ruined, and good luck finding a job after that."

They both gaped at him. "That's it?" Hermione asked angrily.

"Unless," Blaise continued, as if uninterrupted. "We make it sound good."

"How in the hell do we make this sound good, Blaise?" Draco asked, ready to hit his unappropriately happy friend in the face.

"The public is always a sucker for forbidden love, Draco," Blaise said. "Spin them a hopelessly romantic story of your love conquering all obstacles, and they will adore you."

"No one could possibly be stupid enough to believe that," Draco said.

"You'd be surprised," said Hermione. "There are a lot of stupid people in the world."

At that moment, the door opened. "Hey, Blaise, have you seen Draco? I can't—" Theo entered the room and stopped talking abruptly when he saw who was sitting there.  
"What the hell?"

That sentence, Hermione mused, summed up the last 12 hours pretty accurately.

* * *

Hermione fled the room during Blaise's explanation, needing a moment alone. She hurried back to her own hotelroom, looking forward to a moment of peace and quiet, but was met by an irate Ginny Weasley in the corridor.

"Hermione, what the hell is this? Please tell me it's a bad joke!" Ginny threw a Daily Prophet at Hermione's feet, displaying a photograph of herself and Draco Malfoy at the door of the chapel, kissing enthusiastically. The headline read: **Malfoy-heir and War-heroine get married: did hate turn to love?**

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck..." Hermione was not in the habit of cursing, but if there was one situation in which it was justified, it was this one. "Oh gods, Ginny, we've been so unbelievably stupid! I don't know what to do!"

She was near crying, her bottom lip wobbling and a lone tear leaking out of her eyes, but she held it together, if only just.

"So it is real, then?" Ginny said, and her anger was replaced with worry for one of her closest friends. "This is my fault!" she then exclaimed, surprising Hermione. "I should never have allowed the other girls to egg you on like that! I'm so sorry!"

"You didn't exactly force me to marry him, I'm sure, Ginny. It's not your fault."

"How did it happen?"

"i would like to know that too... I can't remember anything!" Hermione wailed.

"Granger, did you tell her? What the hell?" Malfoy had arrived on the scene.

"She didn't have to," said Ginny, glaring at Draco. "You might want to take a look at the Prophet."

When Draco saw the article, he paled to the point of being almost transluscent. He then met Hermione's gaze, and with a small voice, said: "We're going to have to take Blaise's advice, otherwise we're both ruined."

Hermione just nodded, all out of words to say.

Draco seemed to sense she was about to crumble, or maybe he was just as close to a breakdown as she was. "There is no point in trying to fix this now. You are all staying here for a couple of days more, right?" The question was directed at Ginny.

"Two more days," the witch said.

"Well then, I'm going to get some sleep. We will discuss this tomorrow."

Hermione was so relieved at the idea of sleep that she didn't even comment on his commanding tone. She almost ran back to her room, unwilling to face anyone else, followed at a slightly more normal pace by Ginny.

Back into her room, she was relieved to notice that housekeeping had done their job already, leaving no trace of what happened.

"Ginny, I know you want to talk about it, but I'm tired, my head hurts so much I could faint, and if I don't succomb to a hopefully dreamless sleep right now I'm going to cry for hours. So can you please come back later?"

"Of course, Hermione. I don't think the other girls have seen the article, so we still have some time before we need to figure out what to tell them. Get some rest, and I'll see you at dinner!"

Sleep did help, even if it served only to recover some of her courage. If part of Hermione had hoped she'd wake up to find that everything was just a dream, she ignored the disappointment and focused on doing what she did best; planning.

She started making a list of the possibilities she had, although that list was depressingly short. When she had no choice left but to admit that she was stuck with Malfoy for the time being, she started writing down what they ought to discuss.

As much as she disliked the notion, she was rational enough to admit that Blaise was right; the only way to salvage what was left of their reputation, was by giving it a romantic spin. The problem was that she sincerely doubted they'd be able to pull it off.

She was interrupted from her thoughts by a loud knock on the door. "Come in!" she called, and was surprised to see both Ginny and Malfoy enter her room.

"Hermione," Ginny said. "We have a serious problem."

"We're well and totally fucked," Draco added, looking livid.

"What happened?"

"Ron and Harry are here," Ginny answered.

"Oh no. Can't you send them away?"

"They're already making a scene in the lobby," Malfoy said. "If we want to have even the slightest chance at playing the 'we are hoplessly in love' card, we need to do some damage conrol right now."

"Ginny, go get Harry and Ron and bring them here," Hermione said, taking control of the situation at once. "But try to take a detour, because Malfoy and I have some things to talk about."

Ginny nodded and left to do what was asked of her, hoping that, by some miracle, her fiancé and her brother would see reason easily enough.

"I do hope you won't expect me to be present while you explain everything to your friends," Malfoy said, looking even paler than usual. "I'd like to leave this place in one piece."

"No, I really don't want you to be there," Hermione hastened to say. "That would be terrible. I'm pretty sure Ron would try to kill you."

"So what was it we needed to talk about?"

She shot him an unimpressed look. "What do you think, Malfoy? I want to know if we really are going to act as if we're hopelessly in love, and if we do, how on earth will we be able to convince anyone? We hate each other with a passion!"

Draco inhaled deeply, and put his hands to his temples in an attempt to ward off the headache that was building up more and more with every passing minute. "I don't see another option," he said, and the words seemed to cause him actual physical pain. "Blaise suggested to use that passion-thing to our advantage... There is a thin line between love and hate, and similar nonsense."

Hermione worried her lip while thinking and comparing all possible outcomes in her mind. "That might actually work," she said at last. "Although it's going to be very unpleasant for the both of us."

Draco snorted and mumbled something about being punished for his youthfull stupidities. Before she could react with a forceful 'what did I ever do wrong enough to deserve you?' a loud noise sounded through the corridor.

"I think that's Ginny's warning," said Hermione. "You have to leave, now."

"Fine. Keep your attackdogs on a leash, will you?"

Hermione refrained from reacting to that statement, focusing instead on what she was going to say to her best friends. This was going to be a disaster.

"'MIONE!" Ron called out as he barged into her room. "Please tell me it's a joke! This is Malfoy trying to mess with us, isn't it? I'll kill him!"

Ginny quickly closed the door behind the boys and cast several charms to ensure their conversation would remain private. "I tried to calm them down," she told Hermione. "To no avail, unfortunately."

"Hermione, are you okay?" Harry said as he grabbed her by the shoulders to inspect her for injuries. She could only hope the glamour-charms she had put over the hickeys on her neck were still strong enough to hide the embarassing reminders of last night. She would have little choice but to tell her friends the truth about being married; that did not mean she wanted to go into detail into what happened _after_ the 'wedding'.

"I'm fine, Harry. Well, as fine as I can be considering the circumstances. I need you both to calm down so I can explain."

Harry let go of her hastily, a look of horror on his face. "So it's true then. How the fuck is that possible?"

Ron was getting progressively more red in the face and looked like he was trying to hold his breath.

"I can explain!" she interjected quickly. "Just listen to me, Harry, please!"

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply in an attempt to control his temper, before agreeing to her request. "Explain, then," he said shortly.

Several revelations came upon Hermione at once, then. The first one being that she had never expected Harry and Ron to be so mature as to hear her out, the second one was that, as of today, she could officially be considered as the least mature of them all, which came as a bit of a shock if she was honest with herself, and the last and most worrying one: she had absolutely no decent explanation to give them.

"Er... We were both really, really drunk?" she then said, sounding very unconvincing.

Harry and Ron gaped at her while Ginny hid her head in her hands with a suffering sigh.

"That's it?" Harry said. "That's your explanation."

"To be entirely honest with you, I'm not really sure how it happened," she continued on, realizing she was only making things worse and yet somehow incapable of stopping. "The whole night is a bit of blur, to be honest. All I know is that I woke up with a ring on my finger and my name changed in all legal documentation. I really can't believe the Prophet got wind of it so quickly."

Harry took of his glasses and started cleaning them, more to have something to do with his hands than because they were actually dirty, Hermione suspected. "Alright," he said, once he had put the glasses back on his nose. "We need to find a good lawyer so we can figure out how you can get divorced as quickly possible."

Ron threw a horrified look at Harry. "She can't just divorce him right now, Harry, everyone will think she is a..." he trailed of at the look Hermione gave him.

"I suggest you're very careful about what you're going to say next, Ronald." When Ron remained silent, she turned towards Harry. "Unfortunately, Ron is right. The wizarding world is far more conservative than the Muggle world when it comes to relationships and weddings. Not only that, but apparently a couple can only divorce after five years of marriage."

As she explained this to her friends, the gravity of the situation hit her full force and she couldn't stop the broken sobs that shook her body.

Harry being Harry, he immediately forgot all about his anger and enveloped her in a hug, desperately trying to console his best friend.

"It's alright, Hermione, I'm sure we'll figure something out."

Even Ron managed to overcome his usual awkwardness around emotional girls after a push from Ginny, and patted her on the back in what he meant to be a comforting way.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said once she regained control of her breathing. "It's all a bit much. I can't believe I've been so stupid!"

"I can't believe you're a Malfoy," Ron added.

Ginny elbowed her brother. "Not helping, Ron. Hermione, Malfoy was talking about Blaise's advice," she said. "What did he mean?"

"And why would you go to Zabini before coming to us for help?"

"His mother has been married eight times, I think, which makes him a bit of an expert when it comes to marriage and divorce. He said that, while divorce was indeed impossible, there was one way of salvageing our reputation."

Harry noticed the look on her face and understanding washed over him.

"Please don't say what I think you're going to say," he begged.

She grimaced but said it anyway. "We need to make this look like we planned to do it. We have to act like we're star-crossed lovers in an attempt to win the public's sympathy, otherwise, war-heroïne or not, I might never find a job."

Her declaration was followed by Harry Potter cursing in a way she rarely heard him do.

"Brightest Witch of our Age my arse," Ron added. "How could you be so stupid?"

"You guys do realize what this means, right?" Ginny asked, brows furrowed. "You'll have to pretend to get along with him too if we want this to be convincing."

Hermione sat down on the bed and sighed deeply. "That's it," she said. "I am utterly and irrevocably doomed."

* * *

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	4. Four: Theatrics

Late that evening, Hermione, Harry, Ron and Ginny were still sitting in the hotel-room, having ordered dinner there. It was the most awkward conversation Hermione could remember having had with her friends, ever (and that included the one they had after her break-up with Ron), so she was actually relieved when a knock sounded at her door.

Relief that quickly gave way to horror when she saw who was on the other side of it.

"Zabini? Malfoy? Nott? What are you doing here?"

"I assume all your friends are still here?" Zabini asked. At her nod, he pushed her aside and entered the room, followed begrudgingy by Malfoy and Nott.

"We all need to talk," he told everyone.

Harry and Ron already had their wands out, watching the Slytherins distrustingly. "Harry, Ron, they're alright," Ginny intervened before a fight broke out. "Put away your wands. Blaise is right, we need to talk about this."

"Blaise?" Harry asked while shooting a surprised look at Ginny. "I wasn't aware you knew him that well."

"All three of them joined us for the party last night, when everyone was too drunk to remember Hogwarts-rivalries" she explained. "Which is probably why those two happened." She pointed at Draco and Hermione, who stood as far as they possibly could from one another and looked highly uncomfortable.

"HOW COULD YOU HAVE LET THIS HAPPEN?" Ron burst out. He had managed to keep an impressive hold on his temper until now, but standing in the room with one of the people he hated most who also happened to be his best friend (and ex-girlfriend)'s husband was too much. "When your friends are drunk enough to do stupid shit like that, you don't leave them out of your sight!"

Ginny looked slightly guilty.

"In her defense," Blaise said. "From what I recall Ginny was almost as drunk as our two lovebirds here."

Both Draco and Hermione shot an offended look at Blaise, but remained quiet.

Harry put his hand on Ron's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down, and said: "There is no point in wondering who's to blame, now. What's done is done, and we need to figure out how to handle it."

"Well said, Potter, well said," Blaise said. "If I may?" Without waiting for confirmation, he went on to explain his plan. "Obviously, the news is already spread, and there's nothing we can change about that, so we need to do some serious damage-control. To make this in anyway plausible, we're all going to have to play along. Potter, if you can just tell the press you support your friend in her decisions and that you were indeed aware of their relationship, that would be great. Ginny, I think for you our best shot is to play the: 'I knew all about it and wanted to help my friends out, why do you think I wanted my henparty to be in Vegas so badly?' Spin that story to your friends, too."

Ginny nodded. "That might actually work, if we find a good enough reason for them to marry so suddenly and secretly."

Blaise opened his mouth to respond, but closed it again when he realized he didn't have the slightest clue as to how to answer that.

"I might have an idea," Hermione said, eyeing Draco warily. "I remember some parts of our conversation, last night, and you mentioned something about being bethroted?"

He looked displeased at having to share the information with everyone, but he couldn't deny it was their best chance at salvageing this mess.

"That could work, yes," he said. "My father bethroted me to Astoria Greengrass before being sent to Azkaban. The only way to annul such a contract is by being already married."

Blaise nodded enthusiastically. "Perfect! You will give an interview to the Prophet and tell them you were already in a relationship, and that this was the only way to make sure you could stay together. Add in something like 'we never planned to marry this young, but in the end, when we marry doesn't really matter, as long as we get to spend our lives together' with a lovesick look in your eyes, and I'm sure they'll fall for it hook, line and sinker!"

"Blaise, why the fuck do you sound so happy about all this?" Theodore said, voicing what everyone was thinking.

"Yeah, sorry," Blaise answered. "I'm just really good at this sort of thing." He beamed, looking so proud of himself Hermione could hex him.

Draco leant forward and slapped Blaise on the back of the head. "Could you please remember that this is actually a tragedy for me?"

"Except that it isn't, now, is it?" Harry remarked shrewdly. "I mean, it's awfully convenient that you were looking for a way out of your bethrotal, and that Hermione got drunk enough to agree to your stupid plan."

A beat of tense silence filled the room.

"I can assure you that, if I had this idea in my right mind, I would have picked literaly anyone over your Golden princess here. Moreover, I seem to remember it as being Granger's idea."

Everyone's gaze turned to Hermione, and she sat there with her mouth hanging open like a fish caught out of water.

"Funny how alcohol can distort memories, isn't it?" she managed to say, nervously.

Blaise shot her an unimpressed look. "First things first. You," he said, pointing at Hermione. "Are going to have to learn how to be a better liar."

"Hermione can lie when she has to, don't worry about that," Harry said. "Remember how she lured Umbridge into the Forbidden Forest?"

"Oh, I do remember that," Theo said. "Draco spent at least a week ranting about what a very Slytherin tactic that was."

"I did not!" Draco protested.

Both Blaise and Theo shot him an unimpressed look.

"Blaise," Ginny said. "What do we do next?"

"Right, stay focused. Granger and Draco, you have to be seen leaving together from the hotel. Preferably acting all lovey-dovey. Potter, if you could be there too to say goodbye, and act cordial with Draco, that'd be great. I'll act as if Granger and I are practically best friends, and Ginny will be all chummy towards Draco. Once we're back in England, our married couple here will have to give an interview," he ignored Hermione's deep sigh. "And that is the tricky part. Because you can bet that those reporters will do everything in their power to find some negative thing to exploit, so you are going to have to be convincing. Let's practice!" He exclaimed.

"Shouldn't we figure out what we're going to say first?" Hermione asked.

"Nope," Blaise said. "Improvise."

"But—" Hermione objected only to be silenced by Ginny, who forcefully moved her to sit on the bed. Blaise did the same with Draco, so the married couple ended up sitting side by side in front of their friends.

"Ok, now try to imagine you're hopelessly in love," Blaise said, only to be met by the scoffs of Draco and Hermione. "Come on guys, work with me here. Draco, put your arm around Granger's shoulders."

Draco complied, albeit reluctantly.

"Granger, lean into him. And for the love of Merlin, smile, both of you!"

The result was one of the most forced and uncomfortable sights Blaise had ever witnessed, and he groaned in frustration. "How the fuck am I supposed to work with this?" he cried out. "I can't do this, it's hopeless!"

"No, no it isn't," Theo said. "Yesterday, before disappearing to get married, they spent hours conversing drunkenly at our table, didn't you see them? Because I remember thinking that they actually had rather impressive chemistry and they seemed to be able to hold an interesting conversation without insulting each other. If you could do it last night, you can do it again."

"What exactly are you suggesting, Theo?" Draco drawled. "That we get smashed everytime we go out in public? I'm pretty sure the journalists might notice that."

Theodore rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. All I'm saying is that you can do it if you actually want to! Just try to forget everything you know about each other, and focus on what you were thinking last night."

"That sounds a lot like what Malfoy suggested to me," Hermione muttered, her cheeks red.

"Come on guys, we're actually doing this for your sakes!" Blaise cried out.

Hermione took a deep breath before nodding. "Very well. Let's try."

Draco groaned in annoyance, but succombed to the glares of his friends. "Fine."

"Just ask us a question," Hermione told Blaise.

"Mr and Mrs Malfoy," Blaise said, taking on a ridiculously high voice. "Allow me to ask what everyone is wondering: how did you go from schoolyard enemies to hopelessly in love and even married? Surely there must be a delightful story of forbidden love behind all this."

Blaise was acting so dramatically it was impossible to take him seriously, and while Harry, Ron, Ginny and Theo had a hard time hiding their chuckles, the bride and groom looked murderous.

"I'm going to hit him," Hermione muttered.

"I'll hold him down," Malfoy said, rolling up his sleeves.

Harry abruptly stopped laughing and stared at them in awe. "Did you two just... agree on something and choose to work together out of your own free will?"  
This only caused the rest to laugh harder and Hermione and Draco to become angrier.

"I'm glad you all find this so funny," Hermione bit out, glaring at her so-called best friends. "It's only the worst thing that could have possibly happened to me at this time."

"The worst thing?" Draco said loudly. "You should praise yourself lucky you managed to trick a Malfoy into marrying you!"

Blaise burried his head into his hands with a pained sigh. "What an idiot," he muttered.

Harry and Ron couldn't help but agree, and hurried towards the door, dragging the others with them.

"Let's get out of here while we still can," Harry whispered. "You do not want to be caught in Hermione's crossfire."

The Slytherins didn't need to be told twice, and with a little push from Harry, Ginny followed them all out. As soon as the door closed, an explosion of sound could be heard from the room.

Theodore was listening at the door. "Did Granger just hex him? I think I might actually get along with her."

"I doubt Hermione would ever want to spend any time with the likes of you," Ron said.

"She won't have much of a choice if she wants to convince the world this marriage is real. Just like we will have to spend time with Malfoy," Ginny said, ever the voice of reason.

Harry snorted. "They can't even spend more than ten minutes in a room without trying to kill eachother. No one will be convinced."

"I don't know," Blaise said, shrugging. "We could say that they fight like a married coupe already."

Then they heard a loud yelp of pain followed by a myriad of expletives coming from inside, and looked at one another uncomfortably.

"Should we go make sure they don't kill each other?" Ginny asked hesitantly.

"Hell no," Harry said. "Hermione is without a doubt a better duelist than Malfoy, and if he does die all our problems are solved."

"Draco might be my friend," Theo said. "But there is no way in hell I would risk enduring Granger's wrath for his idiocy."

"Yeah," Blaise agreed. "Maybe this will teach him to watch his mouth."

Harry directed a calculating stare at the Slytherins. "You guys are not as bad as I thought. Maybe we could manage to get along, and sort out Hermione and Malfoy's mess."

"Now you're talking, Potter," Blaise said joyfully before shaking Harry's hand.

"Although you might want to stop reffering to Draco as Malfoy, considering that your best friend now shares his name," said Theo.

Everyone shuddered at that.

"Bloody hell," Ron voiced what everyone was thinking. "That's just wrong."

* * *

As it turned out, no one got killed that day, although the hotel-room suffered irreparable damage.

It was, however, the general concensus that they wouldn't rehearse anymore, and instead hope they would nail it on the first try tomorrow. Hermione and Draco would have little choice but to behave once surrounded by the press and other curious observers, right?

Still, it was with great anxiety that they all woke up the next morning. They had agreed to go down to breakfast as a group, make sure they were seen by everyone, before leaving the hotel where the newly-wed couple would say goodbye to their friends before portkeying to their honeymoon.

Of course, said honeymoon was actually Grimmauld Place, from where they would both head to their own homes and just make sure not to be seen in public for the following two weeks. These two weeks would be used to figure out what story they would tell the press, and practicing the interview, as some practice was obviously still required. But other than that, Hermione was looking forward to two weeks where she didn't have to see her husband any more than necessary, considering that after that it was time to go to Hogwarts and they would have to keep up the charade.

During breakfast, thanks to a little manoeuvring from their friends, Draco and Hermione sat next to each other and after a painful kick in the shin from Theo, Malfoy put his arm on the back of Hermione's chair.

They both managed to hide their discomfort, and after a cup of coffee and a very animated conversation between their friends, Hermione even forgot how odd this situation was and relaxed a bit, laughing at the banter between Harry, Ginny and Blaise.

When they walked to the entrance hall of the hotel, the only place from where they could Portkey, Blaise hissed: "Hold hands," and they complied, albeit reluctantly.

It had been good advice, though, because as soon as they walked through the door they were surrounded by journalists and fotographers, shouting question after question.

The hotel-security intervened, making sure that their guests weren't crushed by the press, and after a quick hug from her friends and an encouraging nod from Blaise and Theo, Hermione took out their Portkey, still carefully wrapped in a piece of cloth. She giggled when she saw Ginny wrapping Draco in a hug and Draco's panicked expression.

All the goodbyes were said, then, and they had nothing left to do but touch the Portkey. To Hermione's shock, Draco wrapped his arm around her and dragged her closer to his body, before whispering in her ear.

"Smile, Mrs Malfoy. Make them believe we're actually going on our honeymoon."

And smile she did, although those paying close attention might have noticed that it was more of a hysterical kind of smile. She never thought she'd feel relief at the nauseating feeling of portkeying away, but there's a first time for everything, apparently. If anything had proven that, it most certainly was this little holiday in Vegas.

* * *

 **Many thanks for your reviews!**


	5. Five: Meet the parents, part 1

**I just wanted to say that you are all wonderful! I hope this chapter is to your liking!**

* * *

When they arrived at Grimmauld Place, Hermione sunk down on the sofa and burried her head in her hands, her breathing shallow.

"This is real, isn't it?" she said, her voice trembling slightly. "We're stuck together for the next five years, I'm going to have to lie to almost everyone I know, and most people are going to see me as a silly, lovesick girl unable to make rational decisions."

In a strange moment of camaraderie Draco sat down next to her, looking just as forlorn. "I'm afraid so. We really fucked it up, didn't we?"

"I still don't understand how this could've happened. Alcohol doesn't really seem like a sufficient explanation, somehow."

"I've been thinking the same thing, and I have a theory for that," Malfoy said.

"Really?" Hermione asked, sounding doubtful. "And what would that be?"

"You have always fancied me, and when you saw how drunk I was you decided to seduce me and make sure I couldn't get away easily once I was back to my right mind. I have to admit that it's far more original than a love-potion, but still, Granger, a bit desperate, don't you think?"

She hit his arm, hard. "Fancy the bully that had nothing better to do than insult me and my parents for years? Yeah, Malfoy, sure."

"Yes, about that," said Draco, forcing out the words as if they were causing him physical pain. "I have recently come to realize that the beliefs I grew up with weren't all founded on the truth, and so I apologize for the pain I caused you repeating them at Hogwarts."

Hermione was speechless, shocked beyond words.

"Which beliefs, exactly, have you relinquished?" she asked at last.

He grit his teeth. "You have my apology, Granger. I don't see the need for us to have a heart to heart about it."

"It's Malfoy now, remember?"

He froze. "I'd rather not."

"Malfoy, whether we like it or not, we're in this together. And while I am glad you finally apologized, this whole affair would be a lot easier if I knew exactly where you stood."

He sighed deeply but gave in, knowing enough about her to realize that she wouldn't stop bothering him untill she knew.

"The truth is that I'm not sure. All my life my parents have raised me to believe pure-bloods were superior and Muggle-borns were a stain on our world, but, as it turns out, the man my father followed blindly was a Half-blood, and there is no significant difference in magic between Muggle-borns and pure-bloods. You're the living proof of that. Add to that the way people have been judging me not for my own mistakes, and those were plenty, but for the sins of my father, and I guess I finally have had a glimpse of how it must have been for you and other Muggle-borns."

"Look at you, Malfoy," Hermione said with a grin, bumping her shoulder into his. "Finally thinking for yourself. It took a while, but better late than never, right?"

He scowled. "Fuck off, Granger. Anyway, I think the others have planned to stay away for as long as possible just to spite us, so I'll be off. I owe my mother an explanation, I fear."

Hermione grimaced at the thought. "Good luck with that."

"I'll need it," Draco muttered, before disappearing in a whoosh of green flames.

His apology left Hermione with quite a lot to think about. One thing was certain: she would be spending far more time with him than she had ever wanted to in the future. At first, she had been convinced all of it would be horrible, but now, a different idea was forming in her mind. This situation would be far easier to deal with if they actually learned how to get along.

Where a few days ago this idea would have seemed ludicrous, now she thought that maybe, just maybe, it was a possibility. Theo had made a good point: they somehow had managed to get along, and rather well at that, the night of Ginny's hen-party. It was worth a try, at least, she decided. From this day on, she would actually give Malfoy a chance, and attempt to befriend him while she was at it.

* * *

One week later found them both at Grimmauld Place again, with Blaise, Theo, Ginny, Harry and Ron. Blaise cleared his throat.

"Let us start this meeting," he said solemnly.

"Meeting? Blaise, you really need to stop taking yourself so seriously," Theo said.

"Quiet, Theo. First things first: did you tell anyone else what the true story was?"

"I told George, and only George," Ginny admitted. "He needed something to cheer him up, and he seemed to find the whole situation very entertaining." She offered Hermione an apologetic look. "He did ask me to tell you, Hermione, that if your husband caused any troube, all you had to do was write him and he'd make Malfoy regret it."

Hermione looked smugly at Malfoy. "You might want to keep that in mind, Malfoy. Being on the wrong side of George's ideas is not something you want to experience."

No one said anything about Fred, but they were all thinking about him. It felt odd to talk of one twin without the other, and if her unfortunate marriage had brought George some joy at least it had been good for something, Hermione thought.

"Did you tell the truth to anyone, Hermione?"

"Not yet. My parents don't know much about the Wizarding World and they've decided to stay in Australia, so I'm going to have to visit them to explain. This isn't exactly the kind of news you tell over the phone." The pure-bloods seemed confused at the mention of a 'phone', but they refrained from asking about it.

"I told my mother," said Draco. He then turned to Hermione. "She wants to see you."

"What? Why? That really isn't necessary, this is a fake marriage!" Hermione sounded panicked. _ **  
**_

"I know, I told her, but we're still stuck for five years so she wants to meet you, properly. She really insisted."

Hermione was about to refuse when she got an idea. "Fine. I will go with you to your mother, who watched me get tortured by her own sister and only complained about blood on the carpet, by the way, but only if you come with me to my parents."

Judging by his expression, one would have thought she had asked him to get attacked by a hypogriff again.

"But," he mumbled. "They're Muggles! What am I supposed to say to them?"

"Have you seriously never talked to a Muggle?" Hermione asked.

"Of course not!" he exclaimed.

"Then how is it you're so sure they're inferior?"

"Don't start with me, Granger, that's not what we're talking about right now, we—"

"You're right it isn't. I offered a perfectly reasonable compromise for doing something I really don't want to do, and you overreact like you always do!"

"Overreact? I am asking if you wouldn't mind visiting my mother, while you plan on dragging me to the other side of the world to meet people who probably hate me already!"

"Oh, because your mother has always been nothing but kind to me, hasn't she?" Hermione shouted, furious.

"ENOUGH!" Ginny yelled. "You two are terrible! Just shut up for a minute before I hex the both of you!"

It worked; Hermione and Draco quieted, looking sullen and displeased.

"Thank you, Ginny," said Blaise. "Now, Draco, you know I'm on your side, mate, but I think Hermione is perfectly within her rights to ask that of you. Quid pro quo and all that?"

The look of betrayal on Draco's face was one that could have been framed.

"Look," Hermione said. "If you're really that reluctant to meet my parents, it's fine for me. We'll just avoid the whole 'meet-the-parents' part."

Malfoy crossed his arms on his chest. "Fine," he conceded. "I'll come with you to your parents."

"Oh, Blaise, would you look at that. Draco is finally growing up!" Theo said, lifting his hand to his heart.

"Married and mature now," Blaise played along. "Whatever happened to the little kid that fell in the fountain when he tried to show off his awesome levitation skills? Or—"

"If you two don't shut up right now I'm going to hurt you," Malfoy growled, embarrasment reddening his cheeks.

Hermione observed him calculatingly. Having friends who were obviously fond of him and yet perfectly able to call him out on his bullshit, friends who he seemed to appreciate despite his sometimes rude behavior, it spoke in his favor. She had always dismissed him as being utterly disagreeable, with followers instead of real friends, but either he had changed drastically over the last year, or she had been very unobservant while at Hogwarts. Either way, maybe there was hope for him, and they could even try and become friends to survive the next five years.

* * *

Hermione almost wished Malfoy had kept refusing to meet her parents, because she was now convinced it would end worse than she had imagined at the time.

To say that her parents had not taken the news of her accidental marriage well would be a gross understatement. In fact, they had taken it so badly Hermione was convinced they wouldn't want to see her again before Hogwarts started, but, right before she took the Portkey back to England, her father had told her to bring her husband to dinner on Sunday.

It was now Sunday, and she stood next to Malfoy on her parents' porch, both exhausted and absolutely not hungry due to the time difference. Add to that the fact that she could feel the stress emanating from Draco, and she just knew that someone was going to insult someone before long, and...

She was dragged out of her negative thoughts by the door opening and revealing her mother.

"Oh, there you are. I wasn't sure you'd be able to convince your husband to join us, dear." When she said the word husband, her lips tightened in a way that Hermione knew meant nothing good.

Her parents had been furious with her once they regained their memories. Even if they understood that Hermione had tried to protect them, they still felt betrayed and scared with the knowledge that there were people, their own daughter amongst them, that could mess with their thoughts like that. Needless to say, the relationship between Hermione and her parents had been strained since then, and hearing of her unplanned marriage so shortly after had only added to the feeling of not recognizing the person they had raised.

But none of that changed the fact that Marianne and Henry Granger loved their daughter, loved her very much, and when Hermione revealed the identity of the boy she wedded they had been angry on her behalf.

"That horrible little brat who bullied you?" Marianne exclaimed, aghast. "Hermione, how could you?"

"Well, in mine and his defense, he grew up since then. Mum, dad, as much as we both hate it, we're stuck together for five years now, so I'm going to try and get along with him."

As much as the doctors Granger hated to admit it, that did sound like the most sensible plan. And they were proud to say that they had raised their daughter to be a sensible young woman (occasional lapses of judgment aside, like erasing herself from her parents' memories and marrying a boy she hated).

"Come on in, Mr. Malfoy. My name is Marianne, and my husband is in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches to our meal."

"Please, call me Draco," Malfoy answered, obviously uncomfortable. But nervous or not, Narcissa had taught him how to behave, and his manners kicked in automatically. "It was very kind of you and your husband to invite me, Mrs. Granger."

Marianne harrumphed at that and preceded them to the dining room. Hermione shot Draco an apologetic look.

"They don't like you very much," she whispered. "They still remember the stories I told about you. Just stay polite, and I'll make sure they don't get too mean."

"Granger," he said urgently, stopping her before entering the room. "Do they know I was a..." He touched his left arm.

She shook her head. "I never told them about all the dangerous things happening at school. I was afraid they would make me go to a Muggle school again, for safety."

"Is it so much safer at Muggle schools, then?" Draco asked, sounding surprised.

"Yes," she answered. "Yes, it definitively is. But let's talk about that later. Go on in!"

"Ah, Mr Malfoy. It was about time we met, I suppose," Hermione's father said.

"Nice to meet you, Sir," Draco said. "Please, call me Draco."

"I am Henry, but feel free to keep calling me Mr. Granger."

"Dad!" Hermione hissed. "Can you at least be polite?"

"Let's sit and eat, shall we?" Marianne said. "Henry has gone to such trouble making it for you, so I hope you're both hungry."

Hermione knew her mother well, well enough to realize that Marianne was perfectly aware that it was quite a lot earlier in England right now, and that they wouldn't be hungry at all. Not for the first time, Hermione wondered if her mother would have been sorted in Slytherin, had she been a witch.

"So, Hermione, explain to me again what the plan is?" Henry asked.

"We're going to pretend this was planned. Draco was bethroted to another girl, and the only way to get out of that is being already married, which means that the only way for us to be together was to tie the knot a bit sooner than expected," Hermione explained hurriedly, having had this conversation with them several times already.

"I still can't believe such things still happen in your world. What was your father thinking?" he asked Draco.

Draco shrugged. "Probably the same as his father before him. He didn't do it out of spite or a desire to hurt me, of that I'm sure, but he genuinely thought that to be the best decision for me."

"But what about what you want? Surely you must have told him how you felt about it?"

The blond looked uncertain and his eyes locked with Hermione's for a moment before he answered. "He wouldn't have understood if I had brought it up. I never did. In most of the old families, it is expected of the children to follow in their parents' footsteps and to do it without asking questions."

Hermione noticed the change in her father's expression, and knew a lot of the things that angered him about Draco's past behaviour made more sense to him. He might actually give him a chance now.

Her mother, however, was not so easily swayed. Her snide comments and pointed questions made for a rather horrible dinner. By the time it was over, Draco couldn't help but think that Granger's mother would have most certainly ended up in Slytherin had she been a pure-blood, and probably become friends with his own mother at that.

It also shed some light on where Hermione got her evil and very cunning streak from.

Still, as terrible as it had been, it was also a bit reassuring; if Hermione was used to this kind of dinners, she might survive the evening with Narcissa.

When they got back to Grimmauld Place, Hermione's temporary home, they sank down on the couch, too tired to care that they were sitting next to each other.

"That went well," Draco remarked.

"Sorry I had to put you through that," Hermione said. "They're very nice people, normally."

Draco was a little surprised by her apology and swallowed the cruel retort he had been about to make. "Don't be," he said instead. "My mother is going to be a lot worse."

Hermione hummed tonelessly. "I don't suppose I can meet her anywhere else than the Manor?"

"She's on house-arrest, so no."

Hermione worried her lip but nodded. She disliked the idea of going back to that place immensely, but a deal was a deal, and she wouldn't go back on her word.

"Don't worry," Draco said, almost as an afterthought. "She lives in the west wing of the Manor, so you won't... revisit any location you have already been to."

That being said, he stood up and Flooed out of the house, leaving Hermione once again surprised about him. She appreciated the thoughtfulness of his words and found considerable relief in the knowledge that she wouldn't have to see that drawing room again.

When she had traded an evening with his mother for an evening with her parents, she hadn't really paused to consider what it would be like. Now that the dinner was only one day away, however, reality came crashing down on her like a brick wall.

 _One day at a time, Hermione,_ she reminded herself sternly, reciting what had become her mantra since she woke up next to Draco Malfoy with a ring on her finger. She would deal with what tomorrow had to bring, just as she always had managed to overcome her problems. No matter what Narcissa had in store for her, she was sure she would be able to handle hersef.

She had survived far worse than a dinner with a mother-in-law, after all.


	6. Six: Meet the parents, part 2

**I meant to post this sooner, but this is my last week on Erasmus and it is incredibly busy (and emotional). It's a short chapter, but I'll try and post the next one in a few days!**

* * *

"Miss Granger," Narcissa greeted her at the door. "Or do you go by Mrs. Malfoy too, now?"

Hermione offered the woman the most forced smile she could muster before answering. "Hermione will do just fine, Mrs. Malfoy. Thank you for inviting me." Draco had been polite with her parents, it seemed only right that she offer his mother the same courtesy, even if it was only because she didn't want him to hold it over her.

"Mother, is that Granger?"

"Indeed, Draco, your wife has arrived. Do lead her to the dining room, will you? I have to go check something with the elves."

Draco offered Hermione his arm, which she reluctantly accepted, and led her through a long corridor. As soon as Narcissa was out of hearing range, Hermione spoke. "She isn't going to ask the elves to poison me, is she?"

Draco snorted. "Doubtfully. Our reputation is bad enough as it is, it wouldn't look good if my wife dropped dead in our home."

"I can't believe you still have house-elves."

"I can't believe you still haven't done your research properly and discovered that house-elves actually like their jobs and wouldn't take kindly to any offer of freedom you no doubt wish to bestow upon them."

"I seem to recall a former elf of yours that proves the contrary."

"Dobby was the exception, not the rule. Whatever happened to him, anyway?"

"You don't know?" Hermione had stopped walking, and when he looked down at her he found he could read her face like a book.

"How?" he asked, out of curiosity more than anything else.

"Your aunt's dagger, when we escaped from this Manor," Hermione answered challengingly.

Draco kept looking at her, a serious, heavy look, before nodding and offering her his arm again. "I see. Shall we go on?"

An insult was on the tip of her tongue. The bad memories this place brought back to the surface, the thought of what poor Dobby must have endured here, the knowledge there were other elves slaving for the meal she was about to eat,... It was enough to raise her hackles, but she stayed quiet. She had promised herself she would try and befriend him, and insulting him in his own home seemed like a bad way of achieving that. Moreover, there was no telling how the house-elves here were treated, and, if nothing else, she would give him the benefit of the doubt.

"I'm perfectly capable of walking on my own," she remarked.

"I'm sure," Draco said, "but my mother will scold me for being rude, so please just act like a lady for once."

She grabbed his arm at that, but made sure to pinch him as hard as she could while she was at it.

He would have retaliated if they hadn't just entered the dining room, where his mother was already waiting for them.

"Took you long enough," she remarked with pinched lips.

"My apologies, mother," Draco said formally. "Granger had some questions regarding dinner."

"You know, Draco, you really need to stop calling your wife by her maiden name. Just imagine what the press will say!"

Draco and Hermione both flinched when Narcissa oh so casually used the word wife, again.

"Oh no," Narcissa said, holding one elegantly manicured hand in front of her mouth. "Blaise was right. It's far worse than I thought."

"Blaise was right?" Draco exclaimed, shocked. "Why have you been talking to Blaise?"

"He asked for my help after realizing how terrible you are at pretending you like one another," Narcissa answered sternly. "I will not have my son known as the silly boy who got married by accident. If that means I have to spend time teaching a Mu...ggleborn how to act before an audience, so be it. Now, first things first: From now on, you will only call each other by your given name, or an acceptable endearment of your choosing. Even in private, because otherwise you will never get used to it. Is that clear?"

Draco nodded, still dumbfounded.

"Yes ma'am," Hermione muttered, feeling like she was being scolded by a teacher.

"Excellent. Now, eat." As soon as she said that, the most delicious looking meal appeared on the table. "Draco, mind your manners," she warned her son.

With a wry smile, Draco held Hermione's chair out for her. As soon as he sat down too, Narcissa continued.

"Why don't we pretend this is an interview. Blaise has told me there were some issues when you last tried to practice, but I am counting on you both to be mature enough not to embarrass yourselves in front of me. Now, why don't you start by telling me how you two met?"

Draco opened his mouth to answer, but Narcissa held up her hand imperiously.

"Allow me to give you some advice first. The best way to sell a lie is by staying as close to the truth as possible. It gives you the possibility to recount real anecdotes and makes your story far more believable. And don't try to make it sound too perfect, or other people will hate you. Now go on, convince me."

Draco and Hermione shared a very uncomfortable look, but did as they were told. Narcissa was not the kind of woman you refused easily.

"We met at Hogwarts," Draco began. "Needless to say, we didn't get along at first." Hermione snorted at that. "But everything changed in our sixth year."

Apparently, that was as much as he got because he turned to Hermione, gesturing for her to continue.

"Sixth year, seriously? Are you really suggesting we should tell the world our romance started in sixth year, at the end of which you let Death Eaters into the castle and tried to murder Dumbledore?"

"Do you have a better idea? I hardly think telling them we used to have a secret love affair when we were twelve would be a good enough reason for our marriage."

"Sweet Salazar," Narcissa interrupted them. "Blaise wasn't exaggerating, you two are terrible! Be quiet for a minute so I can think."

If Ginny had been present to witness how easily the Malfoy-matriarch shut Draco and Hermione up, she would have turned green in jealousy.

"No, we can actually work with sixth year," she said at last. "Draco, you were scared and lost, starting to doubt everything you ever learned," Narcissa seemed unable to say this without a disgusted expression, "and when, by some coïncidence, you were forced to spend a lot of time with Miss Gr... Hermione, you found some kind of peace with her. If you want to lay it on thickly, you might even say that it was with her in mind that you were incapable of killing Dumbledore."

"What kind of coïncidence could force two people who hate each other to spend enough time together to fall in love?" Draco asked incredulously.

"A project in one of our classes, a mishap in potions causing us to feel each other's emotions, getting stuck in a broomcloset for the weekend,... At a place like Hogwarts, the possibilities are endless," Hermione said, her mind already focused on another part of the plan. "What I find hard to be believable is that I wouldn't discover that he was up to something, and then forgive him for it afterwards."

"We would have to put a lot of emphasis on how the Dark Lord threatened myself and Draco, and how you understood he never really had a choice."

There was something in the way Narcissa looked at Hermione, then, something deep and meaningful. Hermione felt like she ought to know what it meant, but she was at a loss and it confused her.

"And if we add to that how I was bethroted to Greengrass, it might actually work," Draco said.

Hermione nodded absentmindedly. "It's as good as we're going to get."

"Indeed. As fascinating as this subject is, this was about as much as I can stomach over dinner," Narcissa said. "Next time, listen to Blaise. Now, Miss Granger, why don't you tell me what you plan to do after Hogwarts?"

The rest of the dinner passed in superficial, uncomfortable conversation, and Hermione was relieved when she was finally able to leave without appearing rude. Narcissa told Draco to walk his wife out (the ensuing shudder from the two young people was slightly less noticeable, but present nonetheless), and so it was that Hermione and Draco stood at the door of Malfoy Manor, at a loss for words. How do you say goodbye to your enemy who also happens to be your husband? What parting words do you share with someone you've known for almost seven years, but at the same time only had a small handfull of real conversations with?

Hermione didn't know.

"I think we should arrive together at the station, next week," Malfoy said.

Hermione nodded. "You could come to Grimmauld Place in the morning?" she offered.

"Very well," he said stifly. He opened his mouth as if to go further, but hesitated and closed it again.

"Spit it out, then", Hermione said, curious despite herself.

He sneered but spoke: "You do realize we're going to have to appear close, right? As in we're going to have to be at least a little comfortable with physical contact?"

Hermione grimaced. "Not necessarily. I don't think anyone would be surprised at me not being comfortable with pda."

"I'm not talking about snogging in public. More like the little things that couples typically do." He said this with an expression that one would normally wear when smelling rotten eggs, or perhaps a dead body.

"Like we did when leaving the hotel," Hermione said. "I'm sure Blaise won't let us forget."

"I still can't believe he spoke with my mother," Draco grumbled.

Hermione chuckled. "He is very dedicated, isn't he? You're lucky to have him as a friend."

Draco was surprised at her words. He would have expected her to hate all Slytherins on principle, but apparently she was willing to judge his friends on their merrit rather than on their house.

"Of course you would think so," he said. "With the company you keep, everyone else must seem lucky in the friend department."

She rolled her eyes. "Do you think you could try to have a conversation with me without being insulting? Otherwise these are going to be five very long years."

"Don't get your hopes up."

Hermione sighed deeply. "I don't intend to."

* * *

After Granger left, Draco headed back to the dining room to face his mother. He wasn't looking forward to what she would have to say to him, but he knew from experience that it was better to get it out of the way as soon as possible.

He sat down at the table, waiting for the inevitable scolding, when, not for the first time and probably not for the last either, Narcissa took him by surprise.

"You could have done worse," she said.

She must have noticed his bewildered look, for she smirked before explaining. "Not only is Miss Granger a war-hero, she also happens to be exceedingly clever and compassionate. She makes a very good ally, my son. If you would allow your mother to give you some advice, I will tell you this: befriend her. Don't persist in antagonizing and detesting her, or you shall both end up miserable. When you divorce in five years, her life will go on easily. She is beloved and brilliant, she will have no trouble finding work and friends. The same cannot be said for us, however. If she chooses to speak ill of you once you are separated, we will struggle even more to keep our heads aboves the water. While the marriage is undeniably unfortunate, it is what it is, and Malfoys excell at making the best of bad circumstances. This is a time for cleverness and practicality, not traditions."

"I am surprised, mother. I would have thought you wanted me to keep as far away from her as possible until our time was up. Her ancestry is, after all, not befitting a Malfoy."

"Well I most certainly don't want you to have a child with the girl, Draco. But these five years might give us the opportunity to regain our standing in society and make some worthy new friends. After that, I'm confident you'll find a fine pure-blooded girl to marry, and your little misstep will be soon forgotten."

For reasons he did not quite understand, Narcissa's words left a sour taste in Draco's mouth. It felt odd to hear her speak of Granger with so little consideration, as a tool to be used and nothing more. He may not like the girl, but surely, after all she'd been through (some of that in this very house) she deserved a break?

He shook his head as if to chase away his thoughts. When did he become reluctant to use people for his own gain? He was practically born with that! His mother was right; he ought to use this situation to his own advantage, and he would.


	7. Seven: Back to Hogwarts

Blaise suggested that they postpone their interview until the first Hogsmeade weekend, to give Draco and Hermione the time to get a little bit more comfortable with each other and, hopefully, give the rumors the time to die down a bit.

Everyone had agreed that this was a clever plan as the recently married couple was obviously not very convincing yet, while Hermione was just relieved she didn't have to face the press for now. The result of that was that going to platform Nine and ¾ to take the train was the Malfoys' first public outing in the wizarding world and they were immediately bombarded by journalists asking all kinds of questions.

"How was the honeymoon?"

"Is it true that you used a love-potion on Mr Malfoy, Mrs Malfoy?"

"How did your mother react, Mr. Malfoy? What can you say regarding the rumors that you have been disowned?"

"Mr. Malfoy, what would you like to say to those who accuse you of having _imperio'_ d the former Miss Granger?"

Per their agreement, Hermione and Draco remained silent and tried to shield themselves from the pictures that were taken to the best of their abilities,

albeit while walking very close to one another with one of Draco's arms tucked around Hermione's waist.

As soon as they boarded the train and were out of sight, however, Draco let go of Hermione and she stepped away from him.

"Draco, Granger!" Zabini called them. "We've got a compartment here."

They followed him to discover Harry, Ron, Ginny, Theo and Luna already seated. "We told Luna the truth," Ginny explained. "We can trust her, and the Quibbler might come in handy to us one of these days."

"I'm sure my father will be more than willing to help," Luna said. "The Aspories appear to be fond of you two, which is a good sign for newly-weds."

"Oh, okay," Hermione said, a confused look on her face. "That's great... I think?"

Malfoy was staring at the dreamy blonde girl unbelievingly, and it was probably a good thing that Zabini pushed him down at that exact moment, preventing him from saying something rude.

"You know, with all the time we've been spending together, we might as well start some kind of Gryffindor-Slytherin club," Theo remarked. "It's getting rather ridiculous."

"You could call it Slythindor," Luna said. "It sounds like an interesting idea, I'm sure McGonagall would be happy to hear that the students are trying to mend the rifts the war caused."

"We are not starting a club, Lovegood," Blaise said. "We just need to work together to make sure our friends don't fuck up their own lives. It's a temporary arrangement."

Luna smiled serenely at him, obviously not convinced, but didn't say anything.

"Right," Blaise continued. "There is one important obstacle we have yet to discuss."

"Wait!" Hermione said, before hurriedly sound-proofing their compartment.

"Yes, thank you. Back to our problem: Pansy," Blaise said. Theo and Draco groaned.

"She's never going to fall for your pitifull attempt to appear in love," Theo said.

"And we can't tell her the truth because she won't hesitate to use it against us," Draco added.

"What makes you so sure we won't be able to fool her?" Hermione asked.

"Pansy has an impressive ability to read people," Theodore explained. "Add to that the fact that she knows Draco very well, and she'll see through you right away."

"I can't imagine the pug to be clever enough for that," Ron muttered, but Draco heard him.

"I suggest you watch your tongue, Weasley. Pansy's our friend. And it's not like you have any room to talk about someone else's intelligence, given that you're—"

"Can we please focus on the problem at hand instead of creating new ones?" Hermione interrupted, trying to prevent the two young men from fighting. "Ronald, there's no need to be rude. And Draco, if Pansy's your friend, what makes you so sure you can't trust her?"

"Pansy can't resist a good scandal. She'll want to use the knowledge on her terms, to do what suits her best."

"So what if we convince her that it's in her best interest to help us? Her reputation has taken quite the fall after her comment about handing over Harry during the battle, surely she'll want to better it?" Hermione said.

The three Slytherins turned to look at her with matching smirks on their faces. "And now, dearest Granger," said Zabini. "You're thinking like a Slytherin."

It was at that moment that a loud knocking sounded in their compartment. "I know you're in there, Blaise, Theo and Draco. Let me in right now or I'll make the door explode."

Pansy, apparently, had impeccable timing.

"The truth it is, then," Theo said. "Here goes nothing." He opened the door, revealing an irrate Pansy.

"I cannot believe you would choose to sit in a compartment with the Gryffindorks while leaving me on my own. While we're at it, Draco darling, I cannot believe you would get married without having the courtesy of informing me about it!"

"We can explain," Theo said before shoving her inside the compartment and silencing it once again.

It was getting rather crowded now, and Hermione was pushed flush against Draco, who was sitting next to her. She found she didn't mind quite as much as she should have.

The other three Gryffindors seemed highly uncomfortable with the latest addition to their party, which was perfectly understandable given what happened before. At least Malfoy had tried to keep their identities hidden in Malfoy Manor, while Pansy had been ready to do the exact opposite.

Hermione caught Harry's eyes and mouthed: " _Are you okay?"  
_

He shrugged and smiled, if not very convincingly.

Pansy tensed when she noticed the atmosphere around her, and remained as far away from Harry as possible. "So, explain," she said, sounding far less sure of herself.

"Pans, we're going to tell you the truth," Draco said. "But you have to understand that it is of the utmost importance that the truth doesn't come out. Can I trust you?"

Pansy stared at him, a long, calculating stare. "You may be an annoying little shit, Draco, but you're my friend. And I am very protective of my friends."

Hermione noticed that the other Slytherins relaxed at her words. This, apparently, was what they had been hoping for.

"Excellent," Blaise said. "Now let me tell the story, Draco is bound to make it sound boring."

He told Pansy what happened, lingering on the drunken evening with excruating detail until Hermione hit him with a mild stinging hex. When he stopped talking, Pansy surprised everyone by bursting out in laughter.

"This is the best story I have heard in years. I'm somehow not really surprised that Draco would end up doing something this stupid, but Granger?" Pansy grinned at Hermione. "Didn't think you had it in you. And let me guess, you've been counting on Blaise to help you with the pr?"

"My mother had something to say about it too, actually," Draco replied, sour-faced.

"Yeah, that's not going to work. You're going to need my help."

Most people started protesting, Ron the loudest of all, but Hermione silenced them when she spoke. "That would actually be great, Parkinson," she said. "After all, we can use all the help we can get and I seem to recall you being rather good at feeding reporters false information."

Pansy returned Hermione's fake smile. "I'm going to take that as a compliment. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some rumors about catching you two snogging in the bathroom to spread."

"In the bathroom?" Hermione protested. "Can you at least try to make it sound a little bit classy?"

Pansy didn't answer, but the expression on her face said plenty. As soon as she was gone, Ron turned to Hermione. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I am thinking that it is far better to have her on our side, and if we give her responsibility in selling the lie, she is far less likely to spill the truth!"

Draco stared at her with undisguised admiration. "You really are thinking like a Slytherin."

"Oh stop it, I'm a Gryffindor through and through," she said, elbowing him in the side.

"Don't do that," he protested.

"Then stop calling me a Slytherin!"

"That was actually a compliment, you crazy woman!"

"As if you would consider it a compliment if someone called you a Gryffindor."

During this rather ridiculous discussion, the other people in the compartment shared exasperated glances.

"This is going to be a long train-ride, isn't it?" Ginny said.

"Do you think they would notice if we silenced them?" Blaise added.

"I think they're cute," Luna said, earning herself a weird look from the rest.

"Luna, you do realize that they're not really a couple, right?" Ginny asked.

"Not yet, maybe. But they got along really well at the party, and I'm sure it's only a matter of time before they start admitting to it."

No one answered, unsure about how to respond to the crazy sounding comments of the Ravenclaw, and Hermione and Draco kept fighting for quite a while before spending the rest of the trip in stone-faced silence.

When they arrived at Hogwarts, things got even worse. They entered the Great Hall amidst the whispers from their peers, and Hermione was pretty sure there were more people talking about her than about Harry.

Pansy appeared from out of nowhere between Hermione and Draco, who were dutifully holding hands. " Draco, kiss your wife on the cheek before you come to our table," she hissed. "On the mouth would be even better, but I'm pretty sure you're not good enough to make it look convincing."

Draco gaped at Pansy, highly offended, and Hermione immediately knew that this was not going to end well for her.

"Not good enough?" he grumbled. "I'll show her who's not good enough."

Before Hermione could say anything, Draco had put his arm around her, dragged her close and cupped her face with his other hand.

"Play along," he said with a smirk before pressing his lips against hers.

Hermione had the presence of mind to throw her arms around his shoulders instead of hitting him, as she was tempted to do. What neither of them expected, however, was to get carried away by the kiss. They lost themselves in the feeling, quickly forgetting all about their audience and how they were supposed to dislike each other.

It was only when Theo bumped into them and cleared his throat that they jumped apart, their cheeks tinged red and their eyes wide.

Ginny immediately grabbed Hermione's arm and dragged her to the Gryffindor table, while Theo pushed Draco to the Slytherin one where Pansy was sitting with an insufferable smug smile.

"Why, Hermione," Ginny said. "I never knew you were such a talented actress."

"Shut up," Hermione muttered. "He just kissed me, what was I supposed to do? If I pushed him away our whole story would be blown."

"I'm not blaming you," Ginny answered with a grin. "I mean, you are stuck with him for a considerable amount of time, might as well enjoy it." She wiggled her eyebrows in a ridiculous manner.

"I did not enjoy that!" Hermione protested. Which was a total lie, but she'd be damned if she admitted it!

"That's not what it looked like," Ron said, glaring at his friend. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Guys, let's keep this conversation for when we're alone. Everyone is trying to listen in," Harry warned them.

Meanwhile, the conversation at the Slytherin table had a similar theme.

"What was that, Draco?" Theo said. "I thought the marriage was an accident, but that kiss looked pretty real."

"Shut up, Theo," Draco said.

"Nah, man, Theo's got a point. Are you sure that whole secret relationship story isn't the truth?" Blaise asked.

"Oh please," Pansy intervened. "I would've known if it was, Draco is terrible at hiding things from me." She then looked at him mockingly. "And so easy to manipulate. You're an embarassment for our house, really."

Theo and Blaise laughed. "This is going to be the best year ever," Blaise said.

"I already hate this year, and it has barely started," Draco mumbled, dropping his head to the table.

* * *

The Welcoming Feast seemed to be unbearably long this year, and all throughout Hermione could feel the stares and hear the whispers. It was like no one even cared about the first years being sorted! She had been on the point of escaping more than once, but Ginny had kept a tight grip on her arm throughout the entire meal.

"I'm under strict orders not to let you leave," Ginny explained. "We wouldn't want people to think you're ashamed, now would we?"

It had been a good thing she stayed, too, because the Headmistress asked her and Draco to stay behind. As soon as everyone else had cleared out the hall, Professor McGonagall adressed them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," she said, and the disapproving stare she leveled at them made Hermione shrink in her seat. She had always respected the stern Professor, and to know that she had disappointed her was an additional blow.

"It has been quite some years since we have had married students at Hogwarts. I, for one, thought it was a thing of the past, but you have proven me wrong, it would seem."

Hermione was about to interrupt, to apologize, to explain, when Draco grabbed her hand and gave it a cautionary squeeze. She met his gaze and understood his meaning quite plainly. She stayed quiet.

"Now, there was a time when it was quite common for people to marry younger, and there is a special rule at Hogwarts for the people in those circumstances. You will have your own dorm, living space and kitchen included, separated from either of your houses. Of course, it is still expected of you to attend meals in the Great Hall regularly. Any questions?"

Hermione and Draco stared at the Head-Mistress, mouths hanging wide open.

"I..." Hermione muttered, aghast. "That's really not necessary, Professor, we just want to have an as normal year as possible. We wouldn't want to cause any trouble."

McGonagall smiled wryly. "It's in the rules, Miss Granger, and it's no trouble at all. Your room has already been prepared. I'm sure a young couple such as yourself must be ecstatic at having the opportunity to spend so much time together."

Draco recovered first. He smiled broadly and draped his arm around Hermione's waist. "We are very happy, indeed. Just taken by surprise; I wasn't aware those rooms still existed."

McGonagall looked down her nose at him before answering, "Like I said, it has been many years since we last had need of them. Now follow me."  
She led them through the castle and up several flights of stairs, accompanied by no sound but their footfalls.

They entered a corridor Hermione never even saw before and stopped at an unremarkable statue of a young woman.

"The password is Unity," McGonagall informed them. Draco snorted at the cheesy choice of password and Hermione elbowed him in the ribs for it. "I trust you will find everything to your liking. I'm counting on both of you to keep your grades high, regardless of possible... distractions. You came back here for your education, and education should be your priority. Goodnight."

She walked away briskly, leaving the two young people to their own devices. Draco and Hermione shared an uncomfortable look.

"Well, this is going to be horrible," Draco remarked.

"Let's just go inside," Hermione said. "I want to sleep and forget everything."

"Unity," Draco told the statue. The woman stepped aside, revealing the entrance to their new dorms.

As disappointed as Hermione was at having to live with Draco, she had to admit that their new rooms were very, very nice. Spacious and elegant, with a beautiful view on the lake, and far closer to the library than Gryffindor tower. There was, however, one major drawback.

"As I expected," Malfoy said, after opening the two doors in the room. "One bedroom, with one bed. An if you were hoping that I'd be a gentleman and offer to sleep on this uncomfortable couch so you can have the bed, think again."

Hermione sighed deeply. "We could transfigure the couch and then switch every week?" she offered.

"No, we can't," Draco then said, realization hitting him. "Shit! The elves are going to come in to clean up, they can't notice that we never share the same bed."

"They wouldn't tell—"

"Yes, they would. They'd be worried something they did is wrong, or the rooms aren't to our liking or some shit like that, and then they'd discuss it with McGonagall or another teacher."

"This is a disaster."

"I couldn't agree more."

"So what do we do about it?"

"I'm too tired to think about it today," Draco answered. "I'm going to sleep."

"I want to sleep too! You have no more right to sleep in that bed than me, Malfoy!"

"Yeah, well, I'm going to be there first," he retorted childlishly, before running off to the bedroom.

"Don't you dare," Hermione muttered, throwing a Jelly Legs curse his way. He fell down hard, which gave her the time to overtake him. He grabbed her ankle in an attempt to stop her, but one well-aimed kick freed her and she jumped on the bed before he was back on his feet.

"There," she said smugly. "I got here first."

He glared at her. "If you think that's going to stop me, think again." With an elegant twirl of his wand, he transfigured his robes into pajamas and slipped under the covers on the right side of the bed.

Hermione was staring at him, her mouth hanging wide open in shock. "But... How... I mean—" she spluttered.

"Don't act all shocked now, Granger," Draco said. "It's not like we haven't shared a bed before."

Part of Hermione wanted to give up, run away to the living room and crash on the sofa, but her pride was at stake now. If she let him win tonight, he'd never take her seriously again, she was sure of it.

"Fine," she spat, before transfiguring her robes into pajamas too. She added a protective shield in the middle of the bed for good measure, although it wouldn't last long once she fell asleep.

This was going to be the worst night ever.

* * *

Draco almost immediately regretted his bravado after taunting Granger. He hadn't expected her to actually stay in the bed! But then again, he probably should have; she was one of the most stubborn people he knew. He had been amused when she cast the shield-charm, as if worried he'd try to ravish her in her sleep. As if! A Malfoy would never lower himself with the likes of her.

He sighed deeply. The sentence sounded fake even to his own ears. He had married the girl, after all, and that kiss in the Great Hall... It was a pretty fantastic kiss, though he loathed to admit it.

And now his discomfort stemmed from an entirely different source, and he shifted restlessly in the large bed he shared with Granger.

This was going to be the worst night ever.

* * *

 **Thank you for your kind reviews!**


	8. Eight: How to survive with a roommate

**I am really very sorry it took me so long to update, but I have a rather good excuse: I was on holidays in Thailand for the past weeks, with no internet and no computer. I hope you haven't given up on me yet, and I hope you like this chapter!**

* * *

When morning came, things between Draco and Hermione got worse. Neither of them had slept well, and their day started with a fight about who would get to shower first. Draco won said fight, and spent an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom. In revenge, Hermione magically put her clothes in the only closet in their room, leaving only a small space for him. She cast all the protection and stay-in-place charms she knew on her clothes, hoping Draco wouldn't be able to move or damage her clothing.

It seemed to have worked, for when she finally got the chance to take a quick shower she could hear him curse loudly from in the bedroom.

Grinning smugly to herself, she hurried out of the bathroom fully dressed.

"Come on, let's go, otherwise we'll miss breakfast," she told Malfoy.

"Granger, if you don't move your clothes I will burn them all."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible. You see, while you took forever to shower I had enough time on my hands to protect my clothes from any possible attacks. Now shall we go?" she asked sweetly.

"This isn't over," he said threateningly, before stalking out of the passage in the wall and heading to the Great Hall.

Hermione followed with a triumphant smile on her face, although that was quickly interrupted by a yawn. She was so tired she felt like she hadn't slept for more than an hour in total. Her mood wasn't bettered when her friends almost attacked her with their questions at breakfast.

"What did McGonagall want?"

"Why weren't you in the Common room? I wanted to talk to you!"

"Is everything alright?"

"Do I need to go and hit Malfoy?"

"Guys, please!" Hermione said, silencing them with a glare. "If you'd be quiet for a second, maybe I could actually answer your questions." She waited to see if she would get interrupted again, but when her friends remained quiet she cast _muffliato_ and started to explain. "Apparently there are dorms specially created for married couples, and now I'm stuck living with Malfoy for the rest of the year!"

"You can't be serious!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulders in silent support, and she was grateful for having the most wonderful friends in the world.

"What's the dorm like?" Ginny then asked, earning herself disbelieving looks from the Golden Trio. "What? I'm just curious!" she defended herself.

"It's gorgeous, actually," Hermione confessed. "I'd be very happy about it if I didn't have to share it with Malfoy."

Ginny patted her hand consolingly. "I'm sure it won't be that bad, you'll get used to each other eventually."

The conversation came to an abrupt end when the time-tables were distributed by the Professors. Hermione looked at her own rather busy schedule, but couldn't muster any of her usual enthusiasm for the classes she was taking. So much had happened in the past year, going to school just didn't seem as important as it used to be anymore. Still, she was determined to have high grades, as always.

Their day started with two hours of Potions, and Harry and Ron groaned when they noticed it. "I can't believe we need our N.E.W.T in Potions for Auror training," Ron complained.

"Ah, look at it from a positive side," Ginny said with a grin. "It's a class for the eighth years only , so you'll have two hours to observe Malfoy and Hermione being hilariously awkward with one another."

"You're a terrible friend," Hermione complained.

"You know you love me," the redhead replied, and Hermione couldn't very well deny the truth.

* * *

Potions was actually worse than Hermione had expected, and that was all because of Professor Slughorn. Apparently, the Professor thought it was absolutely brilliant that a Slytherin and Gryffindor had gotten married, and such famous ones no less! The class hadn't even started before Harry, Ron, Hermione, Blaise and Draco had been invited to the Slug-party that weekend, to celebrate the beginning of the new schoolyear.

And then, to make matters even worse, when Hermione moved to sit at her usual table with Harry and Ron, Slughorn stopped her. "No need for that, Mrs. Malfoy, no need for that. Please, I am looking forward to two of the best potioneers of this class working together! Sit with your husband, dear."

Red in the face, Hermione moved to sit with Draco, who was glaring so intensely at Slughorn that she was surprised the old man didn't feel uncomfortable.

"Stupid, pompous bastard," he muttered. "Acting as if I don't exist all of sixth year, and now he's all over me because I married a—"

"I suggest you watch your tongue," Hermione interrupted him icily.

To her surprise he actually shut up, which, quite frankly, was a relief. As soon as Slughorn had told them which potion they were supposed to brew, they started gathering the necessary ingrediënts and equipment.

"At least we won't have to worry about Harry besting us this time," Hermione said, a tad maliciously. "He doens't have that stupid book anymore."

"Book? What book?"

"Did you never wonder how Harry suddenly became so good at potions?"

"Constantly," Draco replied. "He had to be cheating."

Hermione hesitated for a moment. Was she really going to tell Draco about the Prince's book? The spiteful part of her won; she could feel herself becoming angry again just at the thought of Harry getting better grades than her so unfairly.

"The Potion's book he had once belonged to Snape, though he didn't know it at the time. Snape had written all kinds of extra instructions with every potion, and that's why Harry did so well in sixth year."

"If I had figured that out during sixth year I would have been angrier than you can even imagine," Draco said. "But now I think I'll be perfectly happy with gloating at his failures."

"You don't know that he will fail," Hermione protested. "He might—"

"Please," Draco scoffed. "Without that book or you to help him, he doesn't stand a chance. If you crush the black beetle eyes, I'll take care of the lacewing flies."

Hermione nodded and got to work. She was pleasantly surprised at how easily they worked together, at how much she enjoyed working with someone who seemed just as interested at performing well academically as her. When Slughorn started checking everyone's potions, he appeared to be utterly disappointed at Harry's apparent failure, but his face lighted up as soon as he reached Hermione and Draco.

"Just as I expected," he proclaimed. "Perfect. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, you make an excellent team!"

As soon as they were out of the classroom, Draco and Hermione allowed their fake smiles to fall and started complaining.

"Mr. and Mrs Malfoy?" Hermione said. "What is wrong with him? No one should be this excited about two teenagers getting married! That man is just unbearable!"

"I can't believe he just keeps going with his stupid Slug-club meetings," Harry added. "Quidditch hasn't started yet, what kind of excuse am I supposed to give for this weekend?"

"Oh no," Blaise said, a large smile on his face. "No excuses. We're all going. This is the perfect opportunity to show off our favorite couple, not to mention it's very good practice for you two."

"You can't be serious!" Draco exclaimed. "There is no way in hell I'm going."

"How about we ask for Pansy's advice on this one," Theo said placatingly. Pansy was not in their Potion's class so the conversation would have to wait for later, but Hermione hoped that the girl would see reason and tell everyone that going to that stupid party was a stupid idea. (Even her own thoughts didn't seem convincing).

* * *

"Of course we're all going!" Pansy exclaimed loudly when they were all seated in the courtyard during break. "Blaise, I'm going as your plus one considering I wasn't invited, and we both know I'm going to have to be there."

"But if both you and Blaise are there, surely I don't have to go, right?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Don't be ridiculous, Potter," Pansy said scathingly. "I've heard that the editor of Witch Weekly will be at the party, and I can guarantee you that if you don't show up the next article in the magazine will be all about how the Boy Who Lived firmly disapproves of his best friend's choices."

"She wouldn't be wrong," Ron muttered.

"We'll be there, Parkinson, no need to worry about that," Ginny said, linking her arm with Harry's.

"Weasley, you too," Pansy added, looking pointedly at Ron. "Unless, of course, you want the world to read all about how you're still bitter about having been dumped for Draco."

Ron glared but nodded.

"What about me?" Theo complained. "I haven't been invited!"

"Go with Weasley," Draco suggested maliciously.

The shocked looks on both Ron's and Theo's faces were enough to make Hermione laugh. She tried to hide her amusement, but her giggles were rather noticeable nonetheless. Ginny and Blaise joined in quickly, and Draco had a very smug look on his face.

"Fuck off, Malfoy," Ron said.

"Hate to agree with the Weasel," Theo added, "but yeah, fuck off, Draco."

"Why, I think you would look cute together," Pansy said. "And apparently Gryffindor and Slytherin matches are just the thing nowadays."

Not even Harry could contain his snort, now, and he was met with an offended look from Ron. Hermione was laughing so hard she was leaning against Draco without flinching, and Draco was still basking in having pissed of the Weasel and making everyone else laugh so he took no objection.

"Can't we just sneak him in? I mean, we're a pretty big group, I'm sure one more won't be noticed. And even if he is, Slughorn will be more anxious to avoid a scene than to make sure only those invited get in," Hermione suggested when she finally regained her breath.

"That sounds like a far more acceptable plan," Theo said. "If I have to go with a Gryffindor, I'd rather it be Longbottom."

"Seriously?" Pansy asked. "You're an embarassment for all Slytherins."

"Ow, come on, Pans," Theo objected. "You can't deny that he's gotten pretty damn hot over the last years."

Both Hermione and Ginny made agreeing noises, earning themselves offended looks from their respective partners.

"I can't believe I married a girl that finds Longbottom attractive," Draco mumbled angrily.

"Oh lighten up, Drakey," Pansy said. "You're lucky to have found a girl that agreed to marry you at all."

"Does it even count as agreeing when you're too drunk to think?" Theo mused.

Draco turned to Hermione. "All our friends suck," he said plaintively.

"You just can't take a joke," Hermione answered.

"This whole situation is a joke," Ron said. "Can we please stop with the plotting and spend some time far away from the Slytherins?"  
Everyone easily agreed, and the day was spent without further dramatics or complications.

* * *

That evening found Hermione in her own private common room working on the homework she had for Charms. Despite her initial sadness at not living in the Gryffindor dorms, she had to admit that it was a relief to be able to work in silence, without the usual distractions her housemates never failed to provide.

Draco arrived a few hours later, having spent some time clearing his head on his broom.

"Bloody hell, Granger," he said upon seeing her surrounded by books. "It's the first day of term, you can't be serious."

She didn't even look at him. "I like to be prepared."

"Do you even know how to relax?"

"Of course I do!" she exclaimed, immediately fired up, which kind of disproved her own point. "I went to Vegas for Ginny's party, didn't I?"

"Yes, and look at how well that ended," he answered drily. "You were so uncomfortable you got far too drunk in order to forget about your own awkwardness, and now I'm stuck with you!"

"Yes well I'm pretty sure a wedding requires two people saying 'I do', so don't act all blameless."

He scowled at her. "I'll have you know that—"

"Now we're on the subject of blame," she interrupted him loudly, "there was something I wanted to talk to you about. Why did you kiss me like that yesterday? I thought we both agreed that there was no need for pda in public?"

Draco blushed, which was quite the sight, and looked at his feet. "It's Pansy's fault."

"Seriously? How old are you?"

"You didn't really seem to mind though, did you?" he shot back. "If I remember correctly, you were kissing me back quite enthusiastically!"

"I... You... How dare you? You didn't leave me any choice, putting me on the spot like that! Our cover would have been blown if I'd reacted differently!"

"Sure, Granger, keep telling yourself that."

"If I remember correctly," Hermione said. "Your mother told us not to call each other by our last names anymore."

"Bloody hell but you're annoying, _Hermione._ "

"Right back at you, _Draco_."

"Why aren't you with your little Gryffindor friends, anyway?" he asked, sinking down on the other couch.

"They were starting to get on my nerves, actually. There's only so many times a person can be laughed at in one day, no matter how well-meant the jokes."

"Are you saying you chose my company over that of Potty and the Weasel? Why, Hermione, there might be hope for you yet."

"Actually, I was hoping to have this room to myself. Why aren't you with your friends?"

"Same reason, really. They just won't shut up."

"Aren't we quite the pair," Hermione muttered with a wry smile before focusing back on her work.

Draco headed to the bookcase Hermione had already filled with her books and started perusing the shelves, curious to see what the bookworm liked to read. Half of her shelves were occupied by the expected textbooks and the like. He could spot three different editions of Hogwarts: a history, which was excessive because the book wasn't all that interesting. Besides that, there were quite a few novels and books about history, along with a whole lot of writers he had never seen before. Muggle books, he assumed. Intrigued, he read some of the titles, stopping at an old tome that seemed to contain a collection of stories. Shakespeare, he read, and after a quick look at Granger to make sure she was still entranced by her homework (how did she even do that?) he took it and flipped it open. He was hooked after only a couple of sentences. Without even realizing it, he had sat down on the sofa without taking his eyes of the book, not noticing Hermione's surprised smile when she saw what he was doing.

By the time Draco stopped reading, Hermione had fallen asleep on the couch, laying in what appeared to be a highly uncomfortable position. Draco couldn't help but grin at the sight and, in a moment of unusual kindness, he moved her legs so her body would be in a less awkward angle and summoned a blanket to cover her. She mumbled something in her sleep, and he stared at her, thinking she was rather cute while sleeping. Then, realizing that he had been gazing wistfully at Hermione Malfoy née Granger of all people, he hurried to their room, happy to have the bed all to himself for the night.


	9. Nine: Snippets of the first week

When Hermione woke up she couldn't remember falling asleep at all, and she was pretty sure she did not have a blanket last night. Had Draco been thoughtful enough to make sure she wasn't cold at night? It seemed hard to believe. A glance at her watch told her she was far too late for breakfast and if she didn't hurry she'd be late for class too. She could perfectly imagine the disapproving look McGonagall would wear if she was late for the first Transfiguration class of the year, so she dressed hurriedly. She dashed into their kitchenette, wondering if it was stocked or not, only to be met with the sight of Draco sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper, perfectly at ease.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Would you have woken me up before leaving to class?"

He lifted his eyes from the Prophet, one eyebrow raised. "I'm not an alarm clock, Granger."

"You're such a selfish bastard, Malfoy," she said, seething, because she didn't sleep enough and his smug look pissed her off.

"I can assure you my lineage is quite impeccable." He remained calm, which only grated on her nerves more. She glared at him, but when she noticed his amused smirk she knew he would be far more annoyed by her lack of response than by any insult she could possibly come up with, so she held her tongue and fixed herself some breakfast.

"That's it?" he asked her. "I was expecting a couple of more ill-thought insults, at least."

She smiled sweetly. "I don't know what you're talking about. Could you pass me the milk, please?"

He was thrown off-beat for a moment, staring at her as if he was waiting for the evil plan she no doubt had in mind, but at last he must have concluded he was in no danger and he passed her the milk.

"Thank you."

He narrowed his eyes at her distrustingly, but kept his mouth shut. After another look at her watch, Hermione made a distressed little sound and quickly took three more bites of her toast before dashing of to grab her bag.

"Are you just going to sit there?" she asked Draco who still was in the kitchen. "We'll be late for class, and professor McGonagall said that—"

"Relax, Granger. It's too early in the morning for you to be an uptight bitch. We have plenty of time anyway."

"Suit yourself. I'm going."

"Blaise said we should head down to class together, at least in the beginning," Draco protested.

"Who's being uptight now?" she said mockingly.

He groaned, actually groaned, before standing up and grabbing his own bag. " Fine. Let's go then."

He ended up being right; they were five minutes early and had to wait in the hallway, gaped at by all passing students.

"I believe this is the part where I say I told you so," Draco drawled.

"I told you so, really? How very mature, Malfoy."

His hands were at her hips, then, dragging her towards him until she was forced to put her hands on his chest to keep herself from falling. He leaned closer towards her, until his mouth was right next to her ear.

"Please refrain from calling me by my last name in public, _darling._ Have you forgotten what my mother told us already?"

She was so startled by his sudden proximity, by his scent invading her senses and the feel of his chest under her hands, that she couldn't find any words in her otherwise very articulate mind.

"Unappropriate behavior between students!" Peeves shouted at full voice, flying low over them and cackling. "Warn the Headmistress!"

Hermione stepped back at the same time that Draco did, both with flaming cheeks.

"No need for that, Peeves, I'm already here," McGonagall said dryly, having just turned the corner.

If the ground could have swallowed her whole, Hermione would have been exceedingly grateful. Unfortunately, while Hogwarts might play many tricks, swallowing students was not one of them. McGonagall fixed the Malfoys with a calculating stare, seemingly reconsidering what she had previously thought about them, and Hermione wondered whether it was for the better or not. Draco stepped forwards and grabbed her hand, apparently having decided it was for the better, and said: "My apologies, Professor. Peeves made it sound far worse than it was, I assure you."

"Yes, he has a tendency to do that. I know Horace has you working together, but please don't feel obliged to do the same in my class. In you go!"

They entered the class, quickly followed by the other eighth years. Harry and Ron took their habitual places by her side, the latter immediately whispering:

"Why was Peeves singing about you and Malfoy?"

Hermione, having barely recovered her normal facial colour, blushed all over again. "He must have heard about the fact that we're married," she answered without meeting his eyes.

Never had she been so relieved when class started and prevented them from talking, and that was saying a lot considering she was Hermione Granger.

* * *

Three days into the schoolyear and Hermione could feel her mood rapidly deteriorating. She had always been able to trust in lessons and homework to keep her occupied and focused, but after all that happened the past year she had a hard time seeing the importance of it all. Not to mention most of what she was taught she already knew.

There was so much anger in her, anger at a system that kept all these prejudices in place and a Ministry that did nothing to oppose it. Angry at a war that had caused far too many good people to die. Hermione's first instinct when upset was to seek respite in solitude, and she avoided her friends to the point where she ate most of her meals in the kitchen in her and Malfoy's dorms.

"People are starting to notice you're not coming to the Great Hall," Draco said on Thursday. "Keep that up and McGonagall is bound to scold you."

Hermione shrugged, dejectedly staring at her now empty plate.

"Granger? What's the matter?"

"Why do you care?"

"Well, I do have to live with you, and the sight of your long face is hardly good for my mood."

"There was a time when you took great pleasure in seeing me like this," she bit out, and he looked taken aback by the venom in her tone.

"Yes, when I was a stupid kid with a chip on my shoulder," he responded harshly. "But I'm fairly sure that I have done nothing to warrant your anger since we've been married."

Hermione sighed deeply. "You're right, I'm sorry," she said monotonely. "Don't mind me, I'm feeling a little down."

"That's a bit of an understatement."

"Look, just ignore me, okay? I'll go to the Great Hall tomorrow."

She thought this was clearly the end of the conversation, but Draco remained where he was, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"What?" she snapped.

"Is this because of me?" he rushed out. "Because of the marriage, I mean?"

She looked at him, then, really looked at him, but all she could see in his face was concern and... was that shame? Huh. Wat a curious man.

"No, Draco. Contrary to what you seem to think, not everything is about you," she said, with a teasing quirk to her lips.

"Then what—"

"Everything. Nothing. The war, I guess? It's weird to be back. So much happened, and now we're all back at school pretending everything is normal."

He pulled out a chair and sat down at the table next to her. "I know. It feels unreal. Some days I wake up convinced the end of the war was a dream and I'll have to face the Carrows once again."

"It must have been horrible," said Hermione.

He shrugged dejectedly. "Most would say I had it fairly easy, compared to some of the other students. But I've heard far too many people scream in pain—" he shot her a meaningful look— "And the feeling I remember most vividly, the one I hated most, was the feeling of helplessness that was always present."

She nodded in understanding. "I can imagine it would have been very confusing for you. Those people were supposed to be on your side, yet what they did was in no way understandable or right."

"I'd stopped thinking of it as my side from the moment I realized the Dark Lord set me up to fail in sixth year. All I wanted was to survive, for my family to be safe, and I hoped it would all be over soon." There was a tinge of desperation in his voice when he spoke next, and Hermione realized she had never seen him quite so unguarded. "I'm not a brave man, Hermione. Not like your friends tend to be. When I saw others getting hurt, I looked away and prayed I wouldn't be next."

"That's a pretty normal reaction when you find yourself in a dangerous situation, Draco."

"Longbottom didn't. Ginny didn't. A lot of people chose to do something about it, but I..." he trailed off, unsure of what to say next. He was surprised she hadn't left in disgust yet.

Hermione lent forwards and touched the back of his hand with her fingertips. "It was different for you, Draco. For the Weasleys, Harry, Neville and me, what was wrong and what was right appeared to be pretty obvious. I have since come to realize that the world is far less black and white than I used to think, but still. You were raised to believe Voldemort's ideals were the right ones, and why would a child doubt what his parents tell him? Ron and Ginny certainly didn't. What matters is what you believe now, and the work you do to overcome your prejudices."

He sighed deeply. "I was still a coward," he said.

"We can't all be foolish heroes," she said with a smile. "The world would fall to pieces in no time."

This had the desired effect. Draco chuckled, his posture relaxing a bit.

"Anyone ever tell you you see too much good in people?"

"Nothing wrong with that," she answered. "Unless of course you intend to use it against me, somehow."

"I promise I'll try to keep my Slytherin tendencies to a minimum," he said solemnly, turning his hand so he could squeeze her fingers briefly.

"How very kind of you. I know we haven't really talked about this, about us," Hermione said carefully. "But maybe we should. You're not as bad as I thought your were, Draco Malfoy. We might be stuck together for five years, but we might be able to make it work. Instead of sulking in our corner, we could try and make this marriage as agreeable as possible considering it's you and me. Our friends are already learning to get along, so why shouldn't we?"

He looked perplexed at her words, but he nodded slowly. "I believe that would be our best course, yes. I have no desire to spend five years at odds with my wife."

"Good," she said with a tremulous smile. "Thanks for listening to my whining."

"Don't make a habit out of it."

"I promise nothing."

* * *

The next day, Draco noticed Hermione studying Ancient Runes in their living room. Recalling their conversation of the other day, and how she had been brave enough to breach the subject, he figured it was his turn to make an effort. He sat down next to her, ready to make his own homework.

"I don't have my book here," he said by way of explanation. "Can I use yours?"

"Sure," she said, staring at him strangely. "We can share."

"Excellent. How did you translate that third rune? It's a bit ambiguous, don't you think?"

He acted as though them working together was the most normal thing in the world, and Hermione had to bite her tongue not to ask him what he thought he was doing. But no, this was good, this was him trying, and asking too many questions might chase him away.

So she answered his question, and discovered to her surprise that he was just as interested in discussions about academic subjects, even the most minute details. She'd never had a friend as studious as she was, or as eager to learn, and to find out that her once enemy ended up being the perfect study-partner was ironic yet heartening; if she had to spend five years married to an almost stranger, she'd rather have it be someone she could have stimulating conversations with.

* * *

That night, Draco Malfoy surprised her once again. She woke up at four in the morning, disoriënted and bleary-eyed, wondering what on earth had awoken her at this ungodly hour, when she heard the distressed noises Draco was making. She was alert at once, observing his pained expression and the way his entire body was tense.

"Stop it, stop it," he muttered. "You can't—"

Should she wake him up or not? Unsure as to how to proceed, she whispered his name.

"Draco? Draco, it's alright. It's just a bad dream, you're safe," she said, before instinctively reaching out and putting her hand on his forehead. He stilled at her touch. "It's over, Draco. We're all safe now."

"Granger?" he mumbled. Hermione didn't know if he was awake or not.

"Yeah, it's me. Are you okay?"

He opened his eyes and looked at her. She made to withdraw her hand from his face, but he grabbed her wrist. "Don't. Feels good."

Still half-asleep then, Hermione thought with a little smile. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He grunted, his eyes fixated on her face, and then he reached out his hand and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. Hermione froze, her eyes wide. "Thank you for being nice," Draco said sleepily. "I don't know why you bother, but thanks."

His hand dropped back to the bed, his eyes closed and within seconds he was fast asleep. Hermione remained awake for a long time, her mind a jumbled mess of thoughts. Once again, she had little choice but to conclude that she may have been entirely wrong about the man currently sharing her bed.

* * *

The following morning, a Saturday, found Hermione very curious and unsure on how to act around Draco. Would he remember? She doubted it, and even if he did, she was convinced it would only make him act meaner to compensate.

"While I can comprehend that you find me far more agreeable to look at than the men you usually surround yourself with, if you don't stop staring at me like that I will hex you," Draco snapped.

Hermione averted eyes, embarassed that he had caught her watching him. "How did you sleep?" she asked.

"What's it to you?" he asked, but by the look in his eyes she could tell he was trying to remember if anything had happened.

"I was just being polite."

He kept his gaze fixed on her until she was so uncomfortable she had a hard time not running out of the room. "Who's staring now?"

He smirked. "Not as funny when you're the one on the receiving end, huh?"

She rolled her eyes. "Do you ever react like a normal person when someone makes a polite inquiry?"

"Are you going to nag about this all day?"

"You're a lot nicer when you're sleepy," she muttered, low enough that he couldn't make out the words.

"What?" he asked sharply.

"Nothing."

"You're a terrible liar," he said. The harshness in his voice reminded her too much of the little bully he once was, and she reacted in anger.

"You talk when you sleep."

This had obviously what he had been afraid of. He stilled, his hands holding the knife so tightly his knuckles turned white. "No, I don't."

"You're the one saying I'm such a terrible liar. So tell me, Draco, do I look like I'm lying?"

"What did I say then?" There was something like fear in his voice, and Hermione remembered that this was a man who absolutely hated showing vulnerability to others. The one time he did, even if it was in his sleep, and she was about to use it against him?

Guilt made her look down at the table, and she contemplated saying sorry but knew he wouldn't take it well.

"Nothing much. Nothing I could understand, at any rate."

Unfortunately, she hadn't become a better liar in the few minutes of their conversation, and she knew that he knew she was lying. The question then, was whether he would call her out on it or accept the way out she just gave him.

After what appeared to be a very long time, he gave a stiff nod. "In that case, I suppose I should apologize for disturbing your sleep."

He did this sometimes, Hermione had noticed, fell back on formality when he was uncomfortable, even towards her.

"It's really no problem," she said it anyway, even though she was aware that he didn't mean it, not really.

"I'll be off, then," said Draco. "Don't forget we have the Slug-party tonight. Make sure you look presentable, Malfoys always do."

He was gone before she could answer, and she was left on her own with the feeling of annoyance at his petty insult. That might be for the best, though, as tonight they would have to look the part of the happy young couple in front of a great number of people, and them being in the middle of a fight wouldn't exactly help matters.

Hermione sighed deeply. She really was in no mood for a party.


	10. Ten: Slughorn's party

**Thank you to all those who followed and favorited this story, and especially to those who took the time to review! This chapter is quite a bit longer than they usually are, I hope you don't mind... Let me know what you think of it!**

* * *

The dreaded evening arrived, and it was with a lot of apprehension that Hermione and Draco dressed up for the party. They met in their common room, both looking elegant, and with a terse nod Draco offered her his arm.

"Mrs. Malfoy," he said.

"Mr. Malfoy," she replied. "Here goes nothing."

"Do you think there will be alcohol there?" Draco asked hopefully. "You know, to dull the horribleness?"

"Are you out of your mind?" Hermione hissed. "Need I remind you how catastrophically the last time we drank alcohol while at the same party ended?"

"Well it's not like we can get married again. And I'm not talking about getting absolutely shit-faced, anyway, more like taking of the edge."

"You really shouldn't," she said disapprovingly.

"Would you listen to that," Malfoy said. "You already sound like a nagging wife."

"And you still sound like a foul, loathsome, evil—"

Hermione was interrupted by Blaise who, having heard the conversation, smoothly went to stand between Hermione and Draco, throwing an arm over their shoulders.

"Now, now, none of that now. We have a party to attend, and everything needs to be perfect." He managed to sound patronizing and idiotic at the same time.

"Blaise," Theo said, staring at his friend in shock. "You just sounded like Slughorn."

"What?" Blaise let go of the Malfoys immediately, his entire posture changing. "No I didn't."

"You kind of did, mate," Draco confirmed.

Blaise shot a wide-eyed look at Hermione, who shrugged apologetically.

"Oh my Merlin," Blaise muttered, walking away. "What the fuck is wrong with me? I need to go take a shower."

"No you don't," Pansy said, grabbing his arm. "What you need to do is escort me to that party. Shower all you want afterwards."

"But—" Blaise started to object, but Pansy interrupted him.

"Darling, I just spent hours getting ready for this thing. My feet already hurt, my dress is so tight I can hardly breathe without fearing it'll break, and I'm hungry. Do not piss me off."

Her tone was dangerous enough to shut Blaise up, while Hermione shot her a puzzled look.

"If it hurts so much," she asked, "why do you wear those shoes and that dress?"

"Why, because I look hot, of course," Pansy replied, flipping her hair. "Now let's go."

They headed to the dungeons, where they met up with Harry, Ron and Ginny. They entered Slughorn's rooms all at the same time, and the professor was so elated to see Hermione, Draco and Harry that he didn't even notice Theo's presence.

The room, while still somber, had been decorated with hundreds of tiny lights on the ceiling, reminding Hermione of seeing the stars reflected in the sea. There were a lot of people, most of them not even at Hogwarts anymore, while the less famous Hogwarts studens walked around with plateaus on their arms. When a nervous looking fifth-year student approached them with champagne, Hermione forgot all about her earlier misgivings and grabbed a glass.

Draco met her gaze and raised one eyebrow, so she rolled her eyes at him.

"If you want me to survive the night without appearing highly uncomfortable all the time, you will kindly refrain from commenting," she told him.

"Not a word," he promised, an amused glint in his eyes while he took a glass for himself.

"Draco, Hermione," Slughorn greeted them again, now with a beautiful but slightly scary woman in tow. "Allow me to introduce you to Patty Cartwright, the editor of Witch Weekly. Patty, meet the Malfoys!"

Hermione was staring at Slughorn like he had lost his mind. Was it old age that made him a bit... odd? Surely it wasn't normal for an adult man to be this excited about the marriage of two teenagers he hardly knew?

"It's nice to meet you," Draco said politely, shaking Patty's hand. Upon noticing Hermione's lack of reaction, he elbowed her discreetly.

"Oh, er, yes, very nice to meet you," Hermione said.

"I assure you," Patty replied with a predatory smile. "The pleasure is all mine. You two have been the talk of Magical Britain these past weeks. Tell me, how did a war heroine end up married to a Death Eater? And what the readers are dying to know, Mr. Malfoy, is how your mother reacted? She can't be happy about this, surely."

"I wasn't aware this was an interview," Hermione said, her eyes narrowing.

"And it really isn't any of your f—" Draco started, but Pansy jumped in.

"Mrs. Cartwright, what an honor," she said charmingly. "I'm a big fan. Aren't Draco and Hermione the most handsome couple you have ever seen?"

"Oh hush, Pansy, you'll embarrass them," Blaise said. "Hermione here isn't a big fan of attention. A very modest girl."

"We're hoping that her good influence will lessen Draco's arrogance," Ginny added, linking her arm with the blond as if they were the best of friends.

"But let's not hold our breath," said Theo. "Lest we all die of oxygen deprivation."

Patty noticed Harry, who had reluctantly joined the group with his fiancée, and immediately adressed him. "Mr. Potter, would you say that the wedding between your best friend and your former nemesis has allowed you to put an end to the feud between Gryffindor and Slytherin? You all certainly seem to get along."

Everyone held their breaths and stared at Harry, who cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well... I wouldn't say Malfoy and I are going to be the best of friends anytime soon, but I trust Hermione completely, and if she chose him then I will learn to get along with him. Our friendship is far more important to me than any feud ever could be."

Hermione smiled at Potter in such a sappy manner that it made Draco uncomfortable. He desperately looked for a way to escape this horrible conversation and noticed there were already several couples on the dancefloor. Perfect.

"Let's dance," he told Hermione, grabbing her hand and dragging her away before she could react. He slipped his arm around her easily, thanking his mother for the many years of practice he had, and they started dancing.

"Look up at me," he whispered. "We're supposed to be in love." He dragged her a bit closer for good measure. She appeared annoyed, but smiled broadly anyway. For the show, of course.

"At least you're a good dancer," she said.

"Yes, I suppose it's quite an upgrade from your usual dance partners." Draco shot a meaningful look at Ron, who was dancing unelegantly with Hannah Abbot. Hermione couldn't contain a snort, causing Draco to grin.

"I vaguely remember from our drunken conversation in Vegas that you're not half as nice as you like to pretend to be. Seems I was right."

"Shut up, Malfoy. Ron may not be the best dancer, but he is a good man."

"There it is again, that goody-two-shoes act." Draco leant forward and whispered in her ear: "You can't fool me."

Hermione shuddered at the sensation of his breath on her hair, his smell bringing back memories of their night together. She had done everything in her power to forget about that, to forget that she had sex with Draco Malfoy, but in this exact moment all she could think of was how good he had made her feel that night. _Shit_.

Draco was facing similar problems; holding her close in his arms, feeling her warmth and touching her skin like this was making him feel... things. His wife might be the most annoying witch he had ever met but there was no denying she was attractive. This wasn't good, he needed a distraction right now. His eyes swept the room, resting on a certain journalist that was observing them with the greatest interest.

"Do you think Cartwright is buying it?" he asked Hermione.

"I sure hope so," she answered. "Is she looking at us now?"

Draco nodded in comfirmation.

"Then do something romantic," she whispered. "Rest your forehead against mine or something, I don't know. I'm—"

He interrupted her with a kiss. There was no way he was going to do anything as sappy as forehead touching, but kissing he could do convincingly. (If a treacherous voice in his head was of the opinion that he had been hoping such an occasion would present itself, that was of course utter and total nonsense).

It was a sweet, short kiss, nothing that would attract attention in public, but it was enough to make Hermione feel just a little dizzy. She leaned into Draco a bit more, something he didn't seem to mind at all as he tightened his grip on her waist.

"That should do the trick," he said.

"I wish you would warn me before you unexpectedly kiss me like that," Hermione grumbled, resting her head against his chest in an attempt to hide her blush.

Malfoy snickered. "Where's the fun in that?"

The song ended then, and Hermione immediately put some distance between them. "I'm going to get a drink," she told him before walking away. She grabbed another glass of champagne before joining Harry and Ginny.

"Hey, 'Mione," Harry said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she answered. "Just getting really tired. I wish people would leave me alone, my private life shouldn't be any of their business."

Harry smiled wrily. "I know that feeling all too well. I'm kind of grateful you're keeping the spotlight away from me and Ginny."

"It's almost like he's ashamed of me," Ginny said with a grin. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to talk to Neville." With that, she left the two friends alone.

"Really, Hermione, how are you doing with all this? I know we make a lot of jokes, and maybe even act like it's not all that big a deal, but you know I'm here for you, right? If you need to talk or vent, or a horrible accident to befall Malfoy..."

She laughed and hooked her arm through Harry's, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Thank you, Harry. I know I can always count on you. It's just confusing, you know? I don't really know what to think of him, not anymore. Sometimes we actually get along quite well, and then I remember that this is the spoiled brat that tormented me throughout Hogwarts. It's enough to drive me barmy, really. I keep wondering if he actually, genuinely changed or if he's working on something sinister."

"Well, it's Malfoy, so my first instinct would be to believe he's up to something, but then again the War did change us all. Why not him too?"

Hermione nodded pensively. "When did you get so wise?" she teased him.

"I've always been wise, Hermione, you simply took a few years to catch on."

She pinched his arm and he stepped away from her, complaining about both his fiancée and his best friend being violent women.

"What makes you say he has changed, anyway?" Harry then asked.

"He hasn't called me a Mudblood since the day after our wedding, for one, and even then he corrected himself immediately," Hermione said. "He has been reading Shakespeare, although he tries to hide it. He is surprisingly bad at being sneaky for a Slytherin, but I've been humoring him and pretending I don't notice it to make sure he doesn't stop. We work surprisingly well together, and he's even asked me a couple of questions regarding Muggle things!"

"That is shocking, indeed," Harry admitted. "I would have never thought it possible for the two of you to get along, despite your best efforts."

"Oh, I wouldn't say we get along exactly. We bicker about almost everything, it's really annoying."

"Hermione, don't get mad, but you have a bit of a habit of bickering with the people around you even if you like them a lot, so I wouldn't use that as proof that you don't get along."

"What are you talking about? I don't do that!"

"Yes, you kind of do. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, but you kind of really do that. How often did you have screaming rows with Ron? How often did you berate us for not doing or homework? How—"

Hermione interrupted him before he could keep listing all her faults, looking betrayed. "I can't believe you're taking Malfoy's side over mine."

"That's not at all what I'm doing," Harry protested.

Before Hermione could answer, she noticed Patty Cartwright coming their way. "Shit, that woman is coming to interview us again. Dance with me."

Harry obliged, although not very happily, and they swayed on the dancefloor. "If you're going to evade that woman by dancing all night long, your feet are going to hurt a lot," Harry said.

"I don't plan on staying long," Hermione said.

Harry chuckled. "I fear you won't have much of a choice."

When the song ended, they hurried to move to the opposite side of the room from where Patty was, before being intercepted by Theo. "I've been ordered by Pansy to deliver you to your husband, Granger," he said. He grabbed Hermione by the elbow, nudging her towards Draco who was talking to three well-dressed men. When Draco noticed Hermione, he put his hand on the small of her back and introduced her.

"Gentlemen, may I introduce you to my wife, Hermione Malfoy. Hermione, these are some old bussiness associates of my father. They work at the Ministry."

The men inclined their heads in greeting politely, although Hermione got the distinct impression that they were less than impressed with the youngest Malfoy's choice for a wife.

Hermione smiled uncomfortably, unconscously leaning closer to Draco. "Nice to meet you," she offered.

They didn't answer, instead turning back to continue their conversation with Draco. "Do tell me," one of them said. "How is your mother doing? I imagine she's quite distraught what with Lucius being so unjustly imprisoned."

"Unjustly?" Hermione couldn't help but exclaim. Draco's fingers tightened against her back until she was sure he would leave bruises, but what did he expect, really? This was a man who had attempted to kill her when she was only fifteen years old, and all for a stupid prophecy. Lucius Malfoy more than deserved to spend time in Azkaban for the crimes he committed.

The men all stared at her, obviously surprised she dared interrupt them like that.

"My mother is a strong woman, Mr. Shafiq," Draco answered, ignoring Hermione's comment. "She will get through this."

"Of course, of course," the man named Shafiq replied, still looking a bit out of sorts.

"I guess it's a good thing she has a daughter-in-law to dote on, know, isn't it?" the sinister looking man on the left said snidely. It was an insult, and such an obvious one at that that there was no way around it, Draco knew at once. No matter his personal thoughts regarding his wife, she was a Malfoy (for) now and if there was one thing Malfoys were good at, it was protecting their own.

"I do hope, Mr. Warrington, that you meant that last comment differently than it sounded. Because to me it sounded like you were criticizing the latest Malfoy-bride, and I believe you know very well how Malfoys respond to insults."

Hermione looked at Draco with surprise. His entire stance had changed, mimicking the intimidating posture she was so used to see on his father. A quiet fury emanated from him, and even though she wasn't the least bit scared of him she found herself relieved she wasn't on the wrong end of his temper.  
Warrington stiffened. Despite the fact that Draco was only half his age and the Malfoy reputation was in shambles, he remembered exactly what the family was capable of and refused to make the mistake of underestimating the boy. "I also thought I knew what the Malfoys' stance on blood-purity was, but that apparently has changed."

"Times change, Warrington," Draco responded coldly. "Anyone with half a brain knows that those who can't adapt die. I can assure you, however, that the one thing that remains unchanged is that Malfoys stick together, and you'd do well to keep that in mind. I believe my father has quite a lot of enlightening documents in his library, and wouldn't it be a shame if some of those were found by the Aurors?"

Warrington paled notably at the threat, and nodded his comprehension. "I'll leave you to your party then, Malfoy. Mrs Malfoy, goodnight." There was no hint of contempt in his voice when he addressed Hermione now, and Draco relaxed infinitesmally. His point was made, and there were still people who respected his last name. Excellent.

Shafiq and Blishwick, the two other men, stared at both him and Hermione with barely concealed interest before excusing themselves and leaving the couple on their own.

"What in Godric's name was that?" Hermione hissed.

"Nothing to concern yourself with," Draco said dismissively.

"Don't patronize me," she said, her fingers digging in his arm. "If you blackmail people because of a slight against me it's very much my concern."

"Look, we may not have wanted to get married, but regardless of that you are a Malfoy now, which means that I will protect you and your reputation."

She looked offended. "I think I've proved I'm perfectly able to take care of —"

"I'm aware you can fight, Granger. But you don't know the ways of the pure-blooded witches and wizards, so just let me deal with them, will you? I'm not talking about any kind of physical attacks, but if they thought for one second they could get away with it I can guarantee you that they would have started a campaign to destroy your reputation."

"I don't give a damn about my reputation," Hermione responded, grinning when she thought about the Muggle song she just quoted.

"What the fuck are you smiling about?" Draco asked, now even more convinced she was crazy.

"You wouldn't understand," said she. "It's a Muggle thing."

He frowned at her tone, but focused back on the important part of their conversation. "Whether you like it or not, you're a Malfoy now, Hermione. You have little choice but to care about how you are perceived, because the eyes of everyone will be on you for quite some years."

She met his gaze with a slightly mocking curve to her lips, defiant and slightly condescending at the same time. "I find life to be considerably easier when I only take into account the opinions of people I value, Draco. I refuse to alter anything about myself because someone I hardly know complained about this or that. You might enjoy it if you tried to apply this philosophy, you know. It takes away so much pressure!"

And for the first time Draco Malfoy became aware of something he never would have thought possible before: Hermione Granger genuinely looked down on pure-blood notions that he had always thought were undeniably impressive and right. She had never hesitated in telling him and his family off, before, but he had always assumed that it was because she was bitter because she herself had not been lucky enough to be born in one of the good families. He realized now that she did not look at him with envy and jealousy, but that she honestly believed being a Muggle-born was not something bad, not a burden she'd have to carry around for the rest of her life. He was confused, a bit frightened, a thousands thoughts rampaging through his head and destroying more of the foundations he had grown up with.

"Granger," he suddenly asked, the urgency in his tone making her look up with interest. "If you had the chance to be born in a pure-blood family, would you have taken it?"

She stiffled her instinctual angry response. The look on his face was not derisive or angry, instead he appeared bewildered more than anything else. She recalled their conversation at Grimmauld Place, and hoped that this was a continuation of Draco questioning what he had always been taught.

She wanted to answer that of course she didn't want that, that she was proud of being who she was, but she figured that if he truly was on a quest for answers she owed him more honesty than that.

"I'm not entirely sure what you mean," she admitted. "Do you mean would I have preferred my parents to be pure-bloods, or being born in a different family altogether?"

"Whichever," he answered agitatedly.

"I dearly love my parents, and wouldn't want them to be anyone else, that's for sure. I think my life would have been a lot easier had I known about the existence of magic from the beginning," she then admitted. "It was difficult to grow up and have all these strange incidents happen around me without being able to explain them. My parents thought they were going crazy, sometimes. So I guess that if they had both been magical too, I'd have encountered far less problems growing up. That being said, I'm glad I got the chance to experience both worlds. There are so many things that Muggles did that most wizards know nothing about, and I think that's a shame. Not to mention that Muggles stand far more progressively on several issues, and I'm relieved to have been raised in an environment that encouraged me to be who I am and think for myself. So no, I would never choose to be born a pure-blood, regardless of the advantages, but I do think that Muggle-borns and their parents would benefit from being told about who they are and what they can do at a far younger age."

She frowned pensively, considering that. "That's actually a very interesting proposal," she said, almost to herself. "I should discuss it with Kingsley. Not to mention Hogwarts ought to offer classes specifically for Muggle-borns, to help them adapt better."

Draco was staring at her intently, trying to absorb what she was telling him. If it had been anyone else telling him this, he would have thought them to be lying. But the honesty in Hermione's gaze left no doubt as to the veracity of her words, and just how the fuck was that possible?

"You're surprised," she said, noting his expression.

"I am," he admitted.

"You always thought everyone wanted to be pure-blood like you, didn't you?" she asked with a little smile. "There are advantages and disadvantages to every situation. I don't think one is inherently better than the other, it just depends on what you make of it."

"How typically Gryffindor," he said with a sneer, but Hermione could tell his heart wasn't in it.

"Do you think we've been here long enough?" she asked, hoping his discomfort would work in her favor. "Surely no one will be surprised that two young newly-weds prefer their privacy."

He nodded absentmindedly. "Let's escape before Pansy finds us."

Hermione took his hand and intertwined her fingers with his, already used to the casual little touches that had felt so odd at first. She led the way, allowing Draco to mull over what she had said, and soon enough they had escaped the dungeons and were heading to their own rooms.

Draco only noticed that Hermione was still holding his hand on the second floor, even though they were no witnesses around, and a strange warm feeling nestled itself in his chest. He almost let go of her, because this was _Hermione Granger_ , but it was as if he had suddenly forgotten how to move his fingers.

So he refrained from mentioning it, pretending he didn't notice even though it was the only thing he could think about.

Hermione realized that she was still gripping Draco's hand when they arrived in their common room and she released him quickly. Draco observed the blush coloring her cheeks and found it oddly charming. They had been sharing a bed for the past week, they had acted like an enamoured couple every time they were in public, they'd had sex already for fuck's sake, and yet here she was, obviously flustered because they'd held hands for a bit longer than expected.

She looked up at him shyly, worrying her lip with her teeth, and his gaze dropped down to her mouth. Not for the first time, he wondered what it would feel like to kiss her without the excuse of alcohol or keeping up the pretense. Would he hate himself for it, later? Would she push him away? Would it lead to a repeat of their wedding night?

He closed his eyes and blew air out of his nose, forcing his thoughts back to less dangerous roads. He fully blamed Blaise for this. His so-called friend had taken it upon himself to remind Draco that the marriage-contract he so stupidly signed included a fidelity-clause, which meant that neither of them would be capable of straying (he never thought he would hate magic, but hey, there's a first time for everything). To put it simply, if Hermione and him did not have sex again, the following five years would be interminable.

He had refused to consider this yet, refused to consider the fact that they were well and truly stuck together for five years, and he suspected Hermione was doing the exact same thing. It was easier to keep thinking _one day at a time_ than to really acknowledge the extent to which their one night of stupidity would impact their lives.

But ever since that conversation he'd found himself trying to remember exactly how she felt and tasted, wondering if her reactions would be different when sober, imagining how it would be if at least one part of their marriage was real.

 _Stupid Blaise._

"I'm going to bed," Hermione told him then, and he almost groaned.

"I'm going to take a shower first," he said. And a very cold one at that.

When he got back to their room, Hermione was already sleeping. He assumed the alcohol had something to do with that, as normally she had a tendency to move around in bed for far too long, a habit that made him want to smother her with a pillow. Cautiously, he slipped in beside her, hoping he'd surrender to sleep as easily as she had. He was shocked to stillness however when Granger moved in her sleep and cuddled up to him. She grabbed his arm and held it tightly, using his shoulder as her pillow, and he could feel her breasts under her pyjamas and her breath in his neck and Merlin this woman had horrible timing.

"Granger," he muttered, trying to shake her off his arm. She moaned in protest and the sound went straight to his groin.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He ran his free hand through his hair, praying to gods he didn't believe in to help him survive the night. Gently, he extricated his arm from her grip. Unfortunately, this did not have the desired effect, as Hermione merely moved a little further and rested her head on his chest.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," he mumbled. His arm hovered over Hermione, unsure of where to let it rest. He tried to move once again, but she held him tightly, and, well, the feeling wasn't altogether unpleasant. It shouldn't surprise him that Granger was a cuddler; he had noticed she tended to be rather touchy feely with her friends. Hesitantly, he placed his arm around her shoulders and tried to relax. She hummed contentedly and snuggled up even closer, and Draco couldn't help but chuckle quietly. For all her aloofness and her obvious dislike of him when she was awake, her unconscious self did not appear to share the same notions.

He listened to her even breaths and before long they had lulled him to sleep, still holding on to her.


	11. Eleven: Hermione Granger has an Idea

When Hermione woke up, it was still terribly early, even for her standards. In fact, she would probably have gone back to sleep at once if her pillow hadn't suddenly moved. This strange occurrence succeeded in waking her up completely and forced her to become aware of her surroundings.

Her pillow was in fact her husband, who was still deeply asleep and, she could only hope, entirely unaware of their current closeness. Because yes, they were very, very close. Not only was she resting on his chest, but his arm was draped across her back and their legs were tangled together in a very intimate way. She stiffled the impulse to roll away from him in a hurry as the last thing she wanted was for him to wake up too.

She stayed where she was for a few more moments. Because she needed time to figure out how to best get away, of course, not because she was quite comfortable and rather liked the feeling of Draco Malfoy pressed against her.

Carefully, she untangled her leg from his and slipped under his arm. She left the bed and tiptoed through the room, grabbing some of her clothes in the process. After dressing in a hurry she left their common room, desperately needing some time away from Draco to think.

* * *

After wandering the castle for a while, she headed outside, longing for some fresh air. It was colder than she had expected, however, so she cast a warming charm on herself and strolled towards the lake. The sun had only just showed its face over the horizon, giving the world an orange glow, and Hermione spent some time simply enjoying the mysterious beauty of the Hogwarts grounds. It was with surprise that she discovered that there was someone else already at the lake, sitting on a rock and looking lost in her own thoughts.

Hermione almost turned around and left the girl to herself, but for some reason she did not. It was curiosity, perhaps, a desire to learn more about her husband and his friends, and so she approached Pansy Parkinson and greeted her quietly.

"I did not expect you to be awake at this hour," she confessed.

Pansy smirked. "I did not expect to be awake at this hour. I actually like sleeping, the longer the better. But alas, sleep has had the nasty tendency to evade me these past months."

"That's a feeling I'm quite familiar with," Hermione said, surprised that she was having a meaningful conversation with Pansy without any kind of insults being thrown around.

They remained silent for quite some time, watching over the lake as the sun rose higher in the sky. There was peace to be found, here, next to this girl she used to detest, and all the concerns Hermione had been mulling over all morning (all week, if she was being honest), reached an obvious conclusion in her mind.

She took a deep breath and prepared for what would without a doubt be a complicated conversation.

"You didn't seem all that upset that Malfoy had married me. That Draco married a Muggle-born," she said hesitantly.

Pansy looked up sharply, shocked at the other woman's candor. "You don't beat around the bush, do you?"

"I find it to be a waste of time."

"Why would I give you an answer? What makes you think I have a desire to discuss my opinions with a Muggle-born?" Pansy asked harshly.

"Several reasons, in fact," said Hermion. "I think you're smart enough to know that, regardless of our personal feelings, we will be around each other for at the very least the year to come, probably longer. If we learn to understand exactly where we stand, this would all go a lot easier. I also think you would do anything to regain some sort of standing in a world that has come to hate you for what you are and what you said, and you're perfectly aware that the best way to do that is by getting an in with a War Hero. There are more reasons, still, but none of that matters, because the truth is that you owe me at least that much, Parkinson, after all the shit you've put me through."

Pansy gritted her teeth and tensed, ready for the anger and contempt turning her words into venom, but all she felt was the dim sort of emptiness that she had become all too familiar with. She visibly deflated and fixed her glance on a pebble in front of her.

"Fine," she huffed. "Fine, let's act like Hufflepuffs and have a heart to heart. I don't mind you being with Draco because Draco is my friend, and no matter how much of a bitch you think I am I want my friends to be happy. I was always scared that he'd end up like his father, bitter and obsessing over things he couldn't change, and I think that being married to you might be the thing that kind of forces him to choose a different path. Not to mention you're actually one of the few people that can handle Draco and doesn't take any of his shit, and he definitely needs someone like that in his life. As for more selfish reasons, you're absolutely right, Granger. This is an excellent opportunity for us Slytherins to get back in the good graces of society."

Hermione nodded. "So you don't buy into all that Mudblood-crap anymore?"

Pansy swallowed audibly. "I... I'm not sure, Granger. It has been practically ingrained in me to believe that Muggles and Mud... Muggle-borns are inferior and worthless, and some things are hard to unlearn. On some level, I know that many of the arguments that are given are wrong, but my first instinct when I hear about something Muggle is still disgust. Blaise and Theo have been talking about it with me and Draco all year, and that did help."

"Blaise and Theo?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"Yeah. They never buyed into the whole pure-blood superiority thing like we did. Blaise because his mother didn't care all that much, and Theo because he really can't stand his father so he tended to doubt everything he was told. It's one of the reasons we didn't hang out together all that much before last year. As Theo put it so eloquently: "Your endless diatribes regarding Muggle-borns, combined with your inability to back it up with any kind of facts, were a pain in the arse to listen to."

"But last year things changed," Hermione offered, hoping the girl would keep on talking.

"They did. Draco and I, we were told that once the Dark Lord reigned supreme, the world would be a far better place. But what happened at school with the Carrows..." Pansy shuddered. "I'd never felt so lost, Granger. My parents kept praising everything the Dark Lord did, but all I saw was pain, horror and torture, regardless of your heritage. No one was safe. Not to mention I finally began to see just how fucked up Draco was because of his task in sixth year. I think Theo and Blaise noticed our confusion, and they took it upon themselves to 'debrainwash' us, or so Blaise said."

Hermione chuckled without humor. "I can't imagine that went over well."

"No, it really didn't. Not in the beginning, anyway. It took a while, but we both started listening. Draco long before me, I must confess."

"And yet you wanted to surrender Harry during the last battle," Hermione said, the bitterness audible in her voice.

"And that will haunt me till the day I die, I suppose," Pansy said without emotion. "It's surprising how unforgiving people can be for young, scared children."

"If what you claim is true, and you were already starting to change your views on the world and Voldemort, then why did you say it, Parkinson?"

"One is still less than an entire castle filled with people, the majority of them being children, Granger. It seemed to be the most logical escape, at the time."

Hermione refrained from answering, figuring there was no point in starting a fight about things that were in the past.

"Did my answers satisfy your inquisition, Granger?" Pansy asked, with a note of humor in her voice.

"Yes, thank you. I apologize for the intrusion, but I needed to know where you stood."

"Why? Why do you even bother to try? You should hate me and be done with it."

"Because I'm tired. I'm tired of war, I'm tired of fighting, I'm tired of hate. I just want to help rebuild the Wizarding world free of prejudice. I don't want there to be a repeat of the same issues, again. But the only way we're going to be able to do that is by finally mending the bridges between pure-blood and Muggle-born and between Slytherins and, well, all the rest. I figured that my marriage to Draco might be an excellent way to get that done. When I see how well my friends and his friends have worked together, I can't help but feel hopeful. Maybe if we set the right example, the younger ones will follow."

"Always trying to save the world," Pansy said, and if it was a bit mocking, it certainly wasn't mean.

"Will you help me this time?" Hermione asked, looking Pansy in the eye. A moment of understanding passed between the two women, and, slowly, Pansy nodded.

"Yeah," she said. "I'll help you. Just as long as I'm not expected to like you. Contrary to Draco, my dislike of you was not solely based on your heritage."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked sharply.

"You'll both figure it out one day, I'm sure," Pansy said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to bed."

Hermione stayed outside until it was a reasonable hour to go to breakfast where she joined Harry, Ron, Ginny and Luna at the Gryffindor table. Harry took one look at her face and pointed at her with his spoon.

"Uh-oh, I know that look," he said, looking utterly ridiculous while waving the spoon around. "You're up to something."

"Harry, will you stop acting so paranoïd? And if you keep that stupid spoon pointed at me I'm going to charm it to attack you."

Obediently, Harry lowered his hand. "So, what's the plan?"

"There is no plan, because I'm not up to something," Hermione insisted.

"I don't believe a word of it," Ron said with his mouth full.

Both Hermione and Ginny recoiled from him in disgust. "Ronald," Ginny hissed. "Keep your mouth shut when you're eating."

Ron rolled his eyes but obliged his little sister, to everyone's relief.

"So, what's the plan?" Luna asked.

"Oh for Godric's sake," Hermione exclaimed. "Fine. I had a very long conversation with Pansy, and I was thinking that if we wanted to prevent the same mistakes in the future, we should try and really, truly, get rid of the lingering prejudices once and for all."

"You mean we should befriend the Slytherins, for real?" Harry asked. He was always quick to understand her, but instead of the outrage she expected he sounded as if he was considering the idea.

Ginny looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "And this would have nothing to do with your growing attraction for a specific Slytherin, I'm sure?"

Hermione shot her friend a reproachful look. "I'm offended that you would think me so selfish, Gin."

"There's nothing wrong with being selfish every once in a while," Luna said. "And I think it's a wonderful idea."

"I can't believe you had a long conversation with Parkinson, of all people," was Ron's input.

Hermione ignored him and turned to Harry, as he was the only one who could help her with the idea she had been toying with all day. "I think we should bring the pure-bloods into the Muggle world. These prejudices will keep existing as long as they see Muggles as inferior, so the first step would be to show them what they're really like. I'm pretty sure some of the Slytherins still think that Muggles live like they did in the Middle-Ages."

Harry nodded, slowly. "That might work. We could take them to the movies."

Hermione smiled brightly. "Yes, that's a great idea. I'm sure the Headmistress will allow it!"

They kept talking about it excitedly while their friends just stared at them without comprehending.

* * *

Hermione remained in high spirits for the rest of the day, and when she returned to the dorm she shared with Draco that evening she was still too wrapped up in her ideas to remember to feel awkward. Draco noticed that something was amiss at once, and he narrowed his eyes in distrust.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked.

"No reason," she answered hastily. "I was meaning to ask you something, actually", she added, figuring she'd have to distract him. "How'd you like Shakespeare?"

All color drained from Draco's face, and he looked for all intents and purposes like a kid being caught with his hand in the cookie-jar.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he uttered after far too many seconds of silence.

Hermione smirked, then, shocking Draco even more. "Tsk, Draco, you didn't really think you were being subtle, did you?"

"Bitch," he spat out.

"No need to be rude about it," she replied, far too amused to be offended. "His plays are undeniably great, Draco, only a fool would say otherwise. What's your favorite?"

He eyed her strangely, wondering what on earth had gotten into her, before his shoulders slumped and he gave up his denial. What was the point, anyway? She knew already, that much was obvious.

"I like Hamlet, I guess, and a Midsummer Night's Dream is funny. Although I have to say that the way Muggles think of magic is a bit odd."

Hermione chuckled, glad he gave her an answer. "Oh there are stories that represent magic, and witches for that matter, in a far stranger way, trust me. When Professor McGonagall came to my home with my Hogwarts letter and explained I was a witch, my parents weren't exactly overjoyed and I was highly confused."

"I can't even imagine," he said.

"You might, once you've gone into the Muggle world for the first time," she said.

"It's not the same. I have always known Muggles exist, and—"

"Maybe so, but I'm pretty sure the idea you have of them is entirely wrong."

"If you say so," Draco said sceptically.

"Are you really not curious at all?" Hermione asked, even though she was aware that it might have been wiser to end the conversation. "There is an entire world out there, so much larger than the magical one, that you have yet to discover. Don't you want to know what it's like?"

The look in his eyes, then, was enough to give her hope, enough to change her entire perspective on this boy she accidentally married. For a few seconds, his usual walls went down, and she could read him like a book. He was interested, intrigued and fascinated, followed immediately by guilty, and she got the distinct feeling that he had been burrying these questions for years, telling himself that even so much as thinking about that was below him, unworthy of a Malfoy.

"Of course not," he said at last. "The wizarding world is obviously superior, so why should I care about a bunch of disgusting Muggles?"

And if his voice was a little tight and hardly convincing, she didn't comment on it. She'd prove him wrong, in time, and without his father and Voldemort's influence, she was sure she could get through to him. He was clever enough to think for himself, and not yet too old to change his way of seeing the world.

She would just have to be patient.

* * *

 **Thank you all for reading! What did you think of Pansy?**


	12. Twelve: Making plans

**Thank you for your very kind reviews, they never cease to make me smile. Warning: Rather explicit descriptions in the second half of this chapter, I hope no one minds.**

* * *

"Which is why I believe it would be an enlightening and educational visit for all those involved," Hermione ended her pretty long speech to McGonagall, looking at the Headmistress hopefully. McGonagall looked a bit taken aback at the multitude of arguments she just had been bombarded with, despite having tried to stop Hermione several times.

"Mrs. Malfoy, if you had allowed me to speak earlier, I would have told you that there was no need for your in-dept analysis, as well thought-out as it might have been, because I heartily approve. Considering the majority of the people you wish to bring with you are, in fact, in their eight year, with the expection of Miss Weasley and Miss Lovegood, I don't see you leaving the premises of the school as a problem. I will expect a letter of consent from the parents of those of you who haven't reached majority yet, but as long as you are back at Hogwarts at a reasonable hour I can only hope you will succeed in your goal. This world will be a lot better off if we all learn to get along, and I am glad you are taking initiative on the matter. Discuss it with your friends, let me know the date, and please, inform me of how it went afterwards. Now, unless there was something else you wanted to discuss, I must ask you to leave my office, as I still have quite a lot to do."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but closed it again, looking flabbergasted. She hadn't expected the Headmistress to agree this quickly, if at all, which is why she had a written list of all reasons in favor of her plan, but apparently that hadn't been necessary.

"Okay, well, thank you," she said before leaving the room. That had been easy. Now came the hard part; convincing the Slytherins.

As per her request, their usual group (the Slythindors, as Luna persisted in calling them) was waiting for her in her common room. As she had gone to speak with McGonagall the day after her conversation with Harry, it was now Monday evening.

"What's this about, Granger?" Theo asked. "Make it quick, I've got better places to be."

"As if, Theodore," Pansy said. "We're the only friends you've got."

Draco and Blaise snickered while Theo threw a pillow at Pansy, one she easily ducked.

Hermione smiled at their antics before speaking. "I've spoken to Headmistress McGonagall today," she told them. "She has agreed to let us get out of the castle together for an afternoon to promote inter-house unity!"

The Slytherins appeared to be highly distrustful of her words, with the exception of Pansy who looked horrified as comprehension dawned. "And where exactly would we be going?" Blaise asked.

Hermione smiled brightly, if a bit uncertainly. "To the Muggle world!"

"You can't be serious," Draco said.

"There is no way in hell I'm going there. It's dangerous!" Theo added.

"Granger, I don't have anything against Muggle-Borns, but don't you think taking us to the Muggle world is a bit far-fetched? Why would we want to do that?" Blaise wondered.

"Because it's about time you saw what Muggles are like with your own eyes. Your entire lives you've been forming opinions based on what others told you. I'm offering you the chance to decide for yourself."

"I think it will be fun," Luna said.

"Does that mean we will be going to the movies, or whatever it was you were talking about?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, I think that might be the best idea," Hermione answered. Harry nodded in agreement.

"We're not going," Theo protested, sounding scared. "Right, Pans? Tell them!"

Hermione met Pansy's gaze, then, and lifted an eyebrow. This was the moment that would show whether Pansy had meant what she had said the day before, and both girls knew it. Everyone stared at Pansy, wondering what took her so long to answer, why she was even hesitating about this.

"I—," she started, fighting an obvious battle in her mind. "I'm sure there's no harm in it. How bad can one afternoon be, really?"

Draco, Blaise and Theo stared at their friend with horror, while Harry, Ginny and Ron gaped as their world seemed to turn on its axis. Only Luna was perfectly serene, as if she had expected this all along.

"Shall we go next weekend, then?" she said.

Hermione let out a nervous laugh before nodding. "Next Saturday sounds perfect. I'll let you know the details later. Now, I believe it's time for dinner?" She hurried out of the room, not because she was running away from whatever reaction her husband was about to have, but because she was very hungry. _Right._

* * *

Of course her little disappearance act was but a postponing of the dreaded discussion, considering she lived with the guy. She delayed her return to their rooms as long as she could, even considered passing the night in Gryffindor tower, but she was no coward. Moreover, the longer she avoided Draco, the worse their fight was likely to be, so she might as well get it over with.

He was waiting for her on the couch. "I wasn't sure you'd be brave enough to come back," he said with a sneer.

"Why wouldn't I?" she replied nonchalantly. "There's nothing to be afraid of here."

He glared at her, but she was becoming rather used to his death stares so it failed to have the right effect.

"Don't you think you should have discussed this little trip you're planning with me before basically forcing a majority vote on us? I don't know what it is you hold over Pansy, but you should have talked to me first," Draco said.

Hermione was confused. "Why should I have told you first? We're all going to the Muggle world together."

"Because I'm your husband, damn it. Didn't we agree we'd try to make the best out of it? You can't just throw things like that at me and try to change who I am without at least having the courtesy of informing me beforehand. I won't be treated like one of your obedient little friends, Hermione."

To say that Hermione was surprised at his words would be an understatement; they both tended to ignore the whole married thing as much as possible so to hear him use it freely in an argument was unexpected.

"My friends aren't obedient, they trust me. There's a difference. And I genuinely never considered that, Draco, it's not like we really behave like a married couple usually." Hermione crossed her arms and stared him down. "You can't ignore it most of the time only to pull the 'I'm your husband-card' when it suits you."

He raked his hand through his hair, messing it up a bit, and looked exasperated with her. "And what if I refuse to go?"

"I don't think you want to," Hermione answered. "I think you're too curious to pass up on this opportunity. Not to mention, trying to make this work goes both ways. We won't ever be able to get along for real if you still think Muggles, my parents amongst them, are inferior."

"Don't use my words against me, Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Stop making such a big deal about this. It's only one afternoon, and you've already been to my parents' home, haven't you? Was that really all that bad?"

Draco sighed in defeat. "Fine. I'll go, but only if you promise to talk to me next time you have a crazy idea."

Hermione smiled. "That I can do. I know this,"—she gestured between the two of them— "is going to take a lot of work and time before we get used to it, but maybe it's time we genuinely give it a chance. I think that, despite everything that happened, we could be friends, Draco."

"Friends isn't exactly what most people hope for in a spouse," he answered harshly. His thoughts had been consumed by her all day, and definitely not in a friendly manner. The kiss they had shared at the party wouldn't cease to press itself to the forefront of his mind, and _gods_ but he wanted to kiss her again.

Hermione exhaled sharply, feeling hurt at his rebuttal of her attempt at friendship. "What do you suggest we do then? Would you prefer to spend the— _"_ _  
_

She cut herself of when Draco crossed the room until he stood right before her, close enough that she could feel his breath on her face.

"I can't be _friends_ with you, Granger, because every time we talk all I can think about is that night we spent together, and how I fucking hate myself because I was so drunk I can't remember anything clearly. Because every time you're hesitant about something, you bite your lip and all I can think about is how it would feel if I were the one to do that. Because those stupid fake kisses aren't going to be enough for long, and the more time we spend together the more I want to try and see how it feels when we do it alone, without excuses."

Hermione was staring at him, eyes wide and pupils dilated, her chest heaving and her lips parted. What was it about this man that affected her so intensely? She understood, now, just why her drunken self had been willing to marry him if only that meant she could have him. His words had led her thoughts back to that night, too, and she could feel heat pool in her stomach at the memories (hazy as they were) of the sensations he had given her.

Was it really so bad, to be attracted to her husband? Would things be worse for them if she gave into her impulses and explored the physical connection they so obviously had? There was a fidelity-clause in their marriage contract, after all, and five years without any form of physical intimacy could prove to be a very long time, especially if she was to spend them in close quarters to Draco Malfoy.

Draco saw the change in her expression, in the way she held herself, and the little restraint he had left snapped. He threw caution to the wind and leant down, closer and closer still, slowly to give her ample time to change her mind, until she grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him to her. Their lips clashed and soon they were kissing hungrily, her hands in his hair and his on her hips, her back, her arse. Hermione's blood was thundering through her veins until all she could hear was her own heartbeat, and all she knew was that she wanted to feel his skin on hers. She started undoing the buttons on his shirt, but she had a difficult time focusing on it and she fumbled with them until she lost patience and detached her mouth from his with a huff.

"Off, take it off," she told him, and he complied without the slightest hesitation. As soon as his shirt hit the ground he grabbed the hem of hers and it quickly followed suit, leaving Hermione in her bra. He took a moment just to observe her, his eyes roaming over her body (and oh, what a glorious body it was), before he kissed her again. Hermione stepped backwards, in the direction of their bedroom, before deciding the distance was far too long and heading to the couch. Draco followed her, never once ending the kiss, as if he was afraid she'd change her mind as soon as he let her go.

She wouldn't, though. She wanted this, wanted it with a passion that left no place for doubts, and if the realisation scared her a bit, she'd analyse it later.  
Draco cupped her breasts with his hands, eliciting a loud gasp from Hermione. Her hands were roaming his bare chest, exploring his body on touch alone, until they crept lower and started working on his belt.

It was only a matter of moments before they were both laying on the couch, naked, with Draco wedged between Hermione's thighs and sucking on one of breasts. As good as it felt, Hermione was impatient for more, the throbbing between her legs too strong for taking it slow. With her fingers tangled in his hair, she dragged him back up for a forceful kiss.

"Get on with it," she said, rolling her hips against him to illustrate her point.

Draco chuckled, looking down at her with something that ressembled fondness. "Always the bossy one, aren't you?"

Before she could retort, however, he lined his cock up with her entrance and entered her, robbing Hermione from the ability to form coherent sentences.

"Fuck, Granger, you feel so good," he muttered, screwing his eyes shut while he attempted to calm down. He started moving, slowly at first, but when Hermione moved her hips to meet his every thrust he sped up, encouraged by Hermione's approving moans and gasps. Her nails dug in his back, and the pain of that mingled with pleasure in a most delightful way. Sensing his own orgasm approaching, he reached down between them and circled her clit. Hermione arched her back at the added sensation, and it only took a few more moments before the coil in her belly snapped and she reached that uncomparable bliss that made her forget all but pleasure for a moment.

The fluttering of her inner walls was enough to send Draco over the top, too, and his orgasm was intense enough to make him loose all strength in his limbs and fall down on top of her.

Hermione absentmindedly carded her fingers through his hair, still euphoric, until his weight became a bit too much to bear.

She pushed him a bit. "Draco, I can't breathe."

"Sorry," he mumbled, and he moved so he was laying next to her, his arm tightly wrapped around her hips. Hermione wiggled a bit until she was comfortable, then, noticing that Draco was pretty much asleep already, she summoned a blanket and figured they might as well sleep on the couch. She rather liked being held by him.

* * *

She came to regret that decision in the morning, when she woke up with pain in her neck and no way of escaping her husband's embrace without waking him up. She stayed where she was despite her urgent need to pee, reflecting on what had happened the day before. Did she regret it? Had it been foolish? It had only been a matter of time before something like this happened, she thought. They were attracted to each other, that much was obvious, and they slept in the same bed every night, for crying out loud. And it had been wonderful. She was glad she had memories she could actually remember. What did worry her, however, was how this would impact their relationship. She had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to act around him, now, or what he expected from her. And what if he regretted it? He was still struggling to let go of his prejudices, so there was a fair chance that he would be disgusted with both himself and her once he had a clear head. Oh, gods, she didn't know if she could bear that.

Well, no point in agonizing over it now.

"Draco?" said she, poking his shoulder. "Draco, I need to get to the bathroom."

Draco groaned in protest and mumbled something that sounded like ' _no, stay'_ , his arm tightening around her.

She giggled at his cuddly behavior, but poked him again, a little more forceful this time. "Draco, I really need to get up."

He moved his arm so she was no longer trapped in his embrace. "Go then."

"I can't, you're laying in my way."

"I'm not moving. Let me sleep."

"Draco, seriously, move," Hermione said a bit louder, becoming frustrated. He finally opened his eyes and looked at her, annoyance written on his features.

"Fine," he said, but instead of moving he grabbed Hermione and rolled her over his own body. Hermione shrieked, surprised, and when he let go of her arms she fell down on the ground next to the couch.

"Draco!" she yelled. "You arsehole!"

He shushed her. "Lemme sleep."

The infuriating man was lucky she really needed to go to the bathroom, or she would have taken revenge immediately. As it was, she settled for stealing the blanket and wrapping it around herself before she hurried away.

"Granger, what the fuck," she could hear him protest sleepily, and she grinned in triumph. That would teach him.

She could only wonder what the rest of the day would bring them.

* * *

 **I hope this was okay? It's the first time I publish a scene like this, so feedback would be most helpful!**


	13. Thirteen: An important conversation

**Infinite thanks to those of you who reviewed! And sorry for the mix up last chapter, I hope you've all seen the actual chapter twelve instead of what I posted first?**

* * *

Hermione Granger, now Malfoy, had always been very fond of showers. That fondness had only grown more intense during her year on the run with Harry and Ron, and she'd spent the first week after the Battle of Hogwarts taking ridiculously long showers twice a day. There was only one problem, one possible objection that she could voice, one that became more apparent than ever on this early morning; taking a shower gave you far too much time to think.

By the time she was dressed, Hermione was in full freak-out mode. Unwilling to face her friends, she elected to skip breakfast in the Great Hall, and unwilling to face her husband, she figured that this was the perfect occasion to go down to the kitchens and greet the house-elves. She tiptoed past a still sleeping Draco and spent the time before her first class down in the kitchens.

* * *

Draco woke up just in time for classes. He was surprised that Hermione hadn't woken him, but figured she had probably wanted to go to the library before classes. He strutted to his arithmancy class, one he shared with the seventh years and therefore not with Hermione, and sat down in his usual seat next to Blaise.

"'Morning, mate," said Draco. Blaise looked up, and narrowed his eyes.

"You're far too happy for this early hour. What happened?"

Damn it, was he really that obvious? Arranging his features in a more neutral expression, he directed his most condescending look at his friend.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Did you figure out what got into Pansy yet?"

"No, she won't talk about it. All she said was 'blame Granger'. Your wife is a bit terrifying, isn't she?"

Draco actually had to put some effort into keeping his poker-face at the thought of Hermione, as he could feel his mouth wanting to curl up in a goofy grin, and was there anything more unbecoming of a Malfoy? Salazar help him, that witch would be the end of him.

He was still feeling pretty content with himself when he arrived in Potions and dropped into the seat next to his wife.

"So, how was your first class?" he asked.

"Hm? Oh, it was fine, how was yours?" she answered, without meeting his eyes. He should have figured out that there was something amiss by then, really, but he was slightly too preoccupied with himself to notice.

It was only when they started their potion of the week that he began noticing Hermione's odd behavior. Two times she dropped what she was holding, and afterwards almost threw twice more beetle eyes in their cauldron than necessary. It was a good thing he had been staring at her at that exact moment, or they would have had an explosion worthy of Finnegan.

"Granger, what is up with you today? I know my presence can be quite distracting, but please refrain from killing us both, will you?" he hissed.

"I'm sorry!" said she, trying to get some rebellious hair out of her face. "How can you act so normally?"

"It's potions class, and it's a fairly easy potion. Either focus on the assignment or let me do the work, but don't ruin it all now. I'd like to keep my grades high, if you don't mind."

Hermione tried to stiffle the hurt she felt at his harsh tone, but she failed. Of course it was silly of her to expect him to act differently towards her only because they'd had sex. It was, after all, only sex. She had been aware of that when she'd kissed him back, and it had been what she wanted. She was just disoriënted.

Hermione liked rules. She liked things to be clear and organized, she liked things to be black and white. It had taken her a while to find her footing after the marriage, to fall back in a routine of studying and scolding her friends, but she'd never really fully acknowledged that she was in fact married, and that Draco would play an important part in the years to come one way or another. She'd been perfectly content living in denial until Draco had knocked her feet from under her with a few well-placed sentences and a breathtaking kiss.

But maybe that didn't have to be a bad thing, Hermione thought. Maybe it was time she faced the truth and learned to live with the strange man she accidentally married. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes; he was working diligently on cutting the ingrediënts just the right size, a look of intense concentration on his handsome face. There was still a lot to discover when it came to Draco Malfoy, and she couldn't deny he intrigued her. It was, perhaps, not usually enough as fondation to build a marriage on, but it was better than outright dislike, at least. And many arranged couples probably had less between them, and they too had little choice but to work it out.

"Alright," she said, having calmed her wandering thoughts. "I'm ready to focus. What do you want me to do?"

He looked at her for a few seconds before a charming little half-smile curled up the left side of his mouth.

"If you think you can get the rest of the ingrediënts without dropping them, that would be great."

She rolled her eyes at him but did as asked, taking great care not to let anything fall. She was pretty sure he'd never let her forget it if she did.

A little while later, when all they could do was wait while their potion simmered, Draco turned towards her.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "What happened before?"

She smiled nervously, surprised that he had bothered to ask. "It was all becoming a bit overwhelming," she said. "I guess I needed to put my thoughts in order."

"Is this about us?" he asked uncomfortably.

"Yes, well, getting married is a rather significant event. I needed to come to terms with it, I suppose."

"Have you?"

"I think so. How about you?"

He smirked. "I'm slowly getting used to the idea." The tone of his voice left no doubts as to what he was thinking at the moment, and Hermione blushed furiously.

"Shut up," she said.

"I don't think I will. That colour on your face suits you."

Of course, this only caused her blush to deepen, so Hermione turned away from him and used her hair as a curtain between them.

"Oh, come on, Hermione, don't be like that," said he. "It was a compliment."

"You're terrible at giving compliments," she told him primly. "Do you want to skip dinner and meet me in our common room instead? I'm in no mood to see my friends and we need to talk."

"Talk, really? I was hoping we could do something more—"

"Do not finish that sentence," Hermione said, glaring at him. "And don't get any ideas. I said we need to talk, and I mean it."

* * *

That evening, while everyone else was having dinner, Hermione and Draco sat in their living room after eating a meal the house-elves had sent up for them.

"I still can't believe you called the poor elves up just for that," Hermione grumbled. "We could have gotten it ourselves easily."

Draco rolled his eyes. "They don't mind, I assure you. Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?"

 _Pick your battles,_ Hermione thought, taking a deep breath. This conversation woud be difficult enough as it was.

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The silence between them became heavier with every passing moment, until Draco sighed deeply and sat down next to her on the couch (not the one they had... you know. The other one). "So, why did you want to miss dinner in the hall today? You're not ashamed of me, are you, Granger?" he said with a teasing tone to his voice. "There's really no point in that, you know. We're already married."

"I'm quite aware of that," she snapped. "How are you so calm about this?"

"About what? The sex? Let's face it, it was bound to happen at some point. Are you freaking out about it?"

"No, no of course not," she said. He gave her an unimpressed stare. "Fine, yeah, I'm freaking out a bit. I don't understand what's happening at all. We're supposed to hate each other, and yet here we are, married and having sober sex."

His expression shuttered then, becoming more closed-off and distant. "You regret it," said he.

He sounded... hurt, Hermione realized, and that emboldened her some. She put her hand on his arm. " I don't," she said honestly. "I'm just really confused, and terribly bad at handling situations such as these. There's not exactly a book on how to act when you have married your former nemesis."

He chuckled at that, the tension slipping out of his shoulders a bit. "No, I guess we're on new territory here."

"So how do we proceed?"

"One day at a time, Granger. We'll see what happens one day at a time."

They remained seated in silence, close but not touching, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

"Draco?"

"Hm?"

"What do you think about me?" Hermione hated that she sounded so vulnerable at that moment, or how his entire body stiffened.

"I know you Gryffindors like to share everything with each other, but I'm not exactly the kind of person that talks about—"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Draco, I'm not asking you to reveal your innermost thoughts. I simply want to know where we stand!"

"Well why don't you start with telling me what you think of me?" he said childishly.

"I know what you're doing," she told him. "You're trying to provoke me into a fight so I'll forget about my question. It won't work, not this time."

Draco crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at her.

"I don't hate you anymore," said Hermione, regarding him seriously. "But you probably knew that much already. You're still quite infuriating sometimes—" he lifted one of his eyebrows, "—fine, you're infuriating most of the time, but there are moments we actually get along. We work well together, I can appreciate your intelligence, at least when you bother to use it, and we have interesting discussions when we're not fighting."

"I'm not even sure whether to be insulted or flattered by this very analytic description of what you think of me, but you're forgetting one rather important fact," Draco drawled.

"Really? And what would that be?"

"You think I'm irrestibly attractive."

She snorted. "Right. I forgot to mention something else, too; I think your modesty is admirable."

He elbowed her. "Don't ruin the moment with sarcasm, Granger."

"You ruined it first. And you didn't let me finish."

"My apologies," said he. "Please, do go on."

Hermione took a fortifying breath. "Sometimes, I find myself liking you. A little bit. Occasionally. I think that, had we not always known each other as enemies, we might have ended up as friends."

He smirked at her clumsy words, but the warm feeling holding his chest hostage was making it difficult not to either smile genuinely or run away screaming. Neither of those options were very dignified, so he clung to his smirk and distracted himself with what he would answer her.

"You're not so bad either," he finally said.

As intended, Hermione was greatly offended. So offended, in fact, that it took her a few tries before she managed to articulate her thoughts.

"You have got to be kidding me, Malfoy! After everything I said, you're just going to say that? Argh, I don't even know why I bothered!" She ended her tirade with a few painful hits to his arm.

"Granger, stop it! Violence is not the... Aw, bloody hell, woman, you're bonkers!" He used a pillow as shield when she didn't stop, and hit her over the head with it as soon as he had an opportunity. She shrieked and tried to steal his pillow, but he held tight. They struggled until Draco managed to manoeuvre Hermione in a position that was remarkably similar to their position on the couch last night. He used his weight to pin her down and waited patiently until she stopped moving.

"Not fair," she huffed.

"Slytherin," he retorted. "Now if you're quiet I'll give you a real answer." He waited a few seconds to ascertain her agreement, and then continued. "You're the most frustrating and yet most intriguing person I've ever met, Hermione Malfoy, and you confuse me so much I fight a war in my own head almost every day. There are only two things I can say with any form of certainty at this point in time: one, that I do not hate you and the second being that I have no qualms telling you that I am very much attracted to you. Can we snog now?"

She laughed, the corners of her eyes crinkling and her body shaking with it. It was a nice laugh, Draco thought. He had always enjoyed making her angry, enjoyed the way her hair would crackle and her face would redden and her eyes would spit fire, but now, he realized that making her laugh might be even better.

Okay, so maybe sometimes he liked her too. A little bit. Occasionally.


	14. Fourteen: A peculiar bet

**Thank you for your reviews, follows and favs! Hope you like this one!**

* * *

Wednesday morning brought with it a return to normalcy, even if to Hermione it felt like everything had changed. She couldn't understand how others could look at her and Draco, holding hands, and not see how things were different between them now. But then again, she supposed, spending an entire evening shagging in various locations and positions was probably exactly what most people thought they had been doing for quite some time now.

Ginny was more perceptive, however. As soon as Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table, the younger girl gasped. "Something happened," she said, pointing an accusing finger at Hermione.

"Gin, what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about that look on your face!"

"What look on my face?"

"You're getting awfully red, 'Mione," Harry said. "You're sure there's nothing you're hiding from us?"

"I'm blushing because you guys are embarassing me! Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to read this Potions-chapter before class."

"What, you haven't read it already? Must have been a pretty busy weekend," Ginny said with a calculating look.

Hermione ignored her friend, fixating all of her concentration on her book. Damn Ginny and her perceptiveness!

Ginny dropped the subject, but only for now. She was determined to find out more. And if Hermione wasn't going to say anything, well, she'd just have to find another source.

"Hey, Blaise," she said when she spotted him in one of the corridors a couple of hours later. "I need to talk to you."

He looked surprised, but followed her when she ducked in an alcove behind a statue.

"Tsk, Miss Weasley, does your fiancé know you like to abduct unsuspecting Slytherins and lead them to dark, secret corners of the castle?"

"Cut the crap, Zabini. I wanted to ask you something."

Blaise moved his arm in a welcoming gesture, as much as he could in the cramped up space anyway. "Ask away."

"Did you notice something different about Malfoy?"

"Which one?"

She pinched him. "Why the fuck would I ask you about Hermione? The blond, snarky one, obviously!"

"Damn, Ginny, take it easy. It was a joke!" He rubbed his arm while thinking about her question. "Now that you mention it, he was surprisingly happy yesterday, and this morning at breakfast. Most unusual, really, I mean he's not exactly a morning person."

"I knew it!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Know what? Clue me in, here."

"Hermione had a weird look on her face at breakfast. When I asked her about it, she blushed and ignored me for the rest of the meal!"

"Okay," Blaise said, drawing the word out. "And this means?"

"Why, it's obvious, you dunderhead! It means that they're shagging!"

Blaise's jaw dropped open in shock. "Shit! I owe Pansy twenty galleons. Are you sure?"

"You made a bet about if Hermione and Malfoy would have sex?" Ginny asked.

"Not if, when. I thought it would take them two more weeks, at least."

Ginny chuckled. "I can't believe I didn't think of that."

"You know, Weasley, you're not at all like I thought you were."

"I'm not sure if that's an insult or a compliment."

Blaise grinned. "I'll leave that up to you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to class."

Ginny trailed after Blaise at a far slower pace, lost in thoughts. So Luna had been right, after all. The Ravenclaw had said, from the beginning, that Draco and Hermione were very well suited and would realize that eventually. She had noticed them becoming closer, less hostile, but, still, she hadn't been sure that meant anything.

She still wasn't sure it meant anything. For all she knew, it was just about sex.

Argh, she wished Hermione would talk to her about it!

* * *

Hermione was walking away from Arithmancy when, suddenly, Malfoy grabbed her arm and dragged her in a little alcove behind a tapestry.

"What are you doing?" she hissed. "Some people saw!"

"So? I'm sure they're not surprised."

"What do you want, Draco?" she asked exasparatedly. "I have another class in a few minutes."

"Did you tell your friends that we had sex?"

"What? No I didn't! Why would you even ask that?"

"Because Blaise has been cross with me all day, and when I asked him about it he muttered something about how my inability to keep it in my pants for two more weeks lost him twenty galleons."

Hermione stared up at Draco in shock. "Are you telling me that your friends have been betting on whether or not we would have sex?" she asked him, a steely undertone in her voice.

"I believe the bet was about when, not if."

The look she sent him then was enough to make him check if she was holding her wand or not. "Draco, if you had anything to do with this, so help me Godric I will hex you so badly—"

"No, no, no," he interrupted her hastily. "This was the first I'd heard of it. I didn't say anything, to anyone, so I figured you must have told one of your friends, although why your friends and my friends discuss our sex life is something I'd rather not think about."

"Ginny," Hermione said. "Apparently she noticed something different about me this morning, wouldn't shut up about it. Oh my god, what if she's in on the bet too?"

"Something different, huh?"

"Wipe that smug look of your face, Malfoy."

He leant forward and started dropping hot open-mouthed kisses on her neck, and while the rational part of her brain was screaming that this was a terrible idea, it was the other part that took over. Her head dropped back, giving Draco better access, and the most wanton of sighs came out of her mouth unbidden.

He heard it, though, if the way his hips rocked forwards suddenly was any indication.

"Fuck, Granger. I've been thinking about this all day."

"Yes, well, you're going to have to keep on thinking," she said, pushing him away (as far as he could go in the rather small space). "We have Ancient Runes now, and there's no way I'm going to be late."

He groaned. "Who cares about class? You've saved the Wizarding World, you'll find work regardless of your NEWT-scores."

"Maybe so, but that certainly isn't the case for you with that ugly tattoo on your arm."

He huffed a laugh. "An ugly tattoo, huh? If only the Dark Lord could hear you. It doesn't matter, anyway. I'll just be a stay-at-home husband, spending all your hard-earned money on fancy clothes and drinking far too much wine."

Hermione laughed at that image. "You'd get bored after two weeks. Are you even aware of how much attention you need?"

He looked affronted. "I don't need all that much attention!"

She shot him an unimpressed look. "Theo told me about how you would spend many an evening poking him while he tried to do his homework because there was no one else around and you wanted someone to listen to you."

"And you would believe Theo over your own husband? Hermione, I am hurt."

"Oh stop it. Now would you please get out of here, so we can go to class."

"Fine," he whined, in such a petulant manner that Hermione started laughing again. They exited the closet and started the long trek up the stairs of Hogwarts Castle.

"You would make an excellent stay-at-home husband. Maybe we should get you a dog, that way you'll never lack attention and affection."

"Affection from a bag of fleas? Thanks but no thanks. Isn't that your job, anyway?"

She elbowed him in the ribs. "My job? I'll be working crazy hours to be able to afford your expensive taste. Your job would be to make sure dinner is always ready when I get back home. And to give me backrubs. Lots and lots of backrubs."

He waved his hand in the air, as if waving away her demands. "We'll have house-elves to do all of that for us, of course."

"WHAT? No, no, no! No house-elves! What is wrong with you? Do you know nothing about me?" Their banter suddenly took a far less funny turn.

"Granger, you can't possibly tell me you still haven't gotten over that whole spew thing?"

"It's S.P.E.W.! You can't possibly tell me you still believe there's nothing wrong with the enslavement of an entire species!" she yelled. The subject was still a sore one.

"They don't mind!" Draco shouted back. "They enjoy serving Wizards. I agree that they ought to be treated well, but you want to free them? They'd hate that! Are you really so arrogant that you would believe you know what the house-elves want better than they do?"

"I... You... That is not the point, Draco! I don't believe I know better, I simply think they should have the choice!" She breathed in deeply, calmed down a bit. "I acknowledge that my way of going about things in fourth year was not exactly ideal. If house-elves truly want to serve, then they should. But they do need to get paid for their work, they need to be protected by the law, just like all other sentient beings, and there is no way in hell I would ever have one myself."

"Yeah, well, there is no way I'm going anywhere without Torry, so you'll just have to deal with it."

"Torry?"

"He's my elf, and he would be devastated should he believe I wished to part with him."

"But Dobby—"

"Was my father's elf, and a rather unique one at that. I can assure you that Torry has a most comfortable life, as have all the other elves now remaining at the Manor."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. "If, however, this matter is so important to you, I have no objection to pay Torry whichever salary you and he agree on. But be warned, Granger, that won't be an easy conversation."

Hermione was surprised at his easy acquiescence. But then again, he was so rich that it probably didn't matter.

"Very well," said she. "I will discuss it with him if the situation ever presents itself."

"If? I'd say the situation will present itself as soon as we're out of school. We'll have to live together, otherwise they'd see right through our pretense," Draco said, without thinking too much of it, expressing what he had thought about several times before.

Something about those words bothered Hermione, but she couldn't say what or why, so she merely shrugged, unwilling to start a discussion at this time.

Mere hours later, her so-called friend, Ginny, had tricked her into spending the evening with her in Gryffindor tower. It was only when she arrived in the girls' dorms that she discovered it was in fact an ambush, designed to make her confess all of her secrets.

All right, so she was exagerating a bit. All Ginny wanted was to have a 'girl-talk', which, apparently, consisted of telling each other about everything that had to do with sex and husbands and the like.

"Come on, Hermione," Ginny needled. "Don't you trust me? Just tell me what's been going on with you lately."

Hermione sighed deeply, not at all fooled by Ginny's innocent expression. But still, it would be nice to talk about it with someone who wouldn't judge her too much.

"You're blushing," Ginny noted. "You had sex with Malfoy, didn't you?"

Hermione couldn't bring herself to say the words out loud, so she simply hid her face in her hands, trusting that reaction would be sufficient explanation. It was.

"Merlin, I knew it!" Ginny squealed. "How was it? How was he? What does that mean for the two of you? Oh, Hermione, you must tell me everything!"

"Calm down, will you? And to answer your question: it was great, it really was! I felt a bit confused the day after, but we actually talked it out, so I'm glad!"

Ginny let out a happy sigh. "I am so relieved you didn't end up regretting it, and that you cleared the air afterwards! I was worried you'd start thinking he was only into you because of that fidelity-clause and, well, he is a guy, but obviously you guys are getting along great! Did you know that both Blaise and Pansy predicted this?"

For the second time that day, an unexplicable disagreeable feeling overtook Hermione. She shook her head, as if that could get rid of it.

"Yes, Draco mentioned something about a bet. Please tell me you weren't in on it?"

"Of course not!" Ginny exclaimed. "Why would I make bets with Slytherins?"

"I don't know, you seem to get along with Blaise well."

Ginny nodded. "Yeah, Blaise is funny. I think he would've gotten along great with the twins if they had been in the same class."

Hermione could see her friend's face contort in sadness, as it always did when she spoke of Fred, and once again felt totally inadequate when it came to consoling others. Oh, if only Harry were here.

"I'm sorry, Gin," she said softly. "I miss him too."

"Yeah, well, he sure as hell wouldn't have wanted me to be sad about him all the time. Let's go down and play some exploding snaps, or something."

And they did, Ginny creating a ruckus that would certainly have made Fred proud.

* * *

"So, Draco, I suppose I ought to thank you for those twenty galleons," Pansy said, sitting down on the couch next to the blond in question. "I might even buy you a drink, someday. A cheap one, though."

Draco glared at her. "I can't believe you betted on whether Granger and I would have sex."

"No, no, we betted on when, not if. When you would have sex _again_ , might I add."

"Fuck off."

"Tssk, Draco," Pansy said condescendingly. "What would your wife say?"

"The same, I'd wager," Theo responded. "In fact, Pansy, you seem to ellicit that response rather often."

"Not from Granger, actually," said she, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "She didn't seem to mind talking to me at all."

This caught Draco's attention. "Yes, what did you two talk about? Hermione won't say anything about it!" he complained.

"If she doesn't think it's a good idea to tell you, then who am I to disagree?" Pansy said, obviously rather smug about the whole affair.

"Yes, well, if we're done talking about Granger, once again," Blaise drawled. "I would like to share a far more interesting piece of gossip."

"Do tell," Theodore said, while Pansy looked a tad put out at losing the attention of the group.

"I heard Terry Boot tell Cho Chang that he heard from a third year ravenclaw that Hannah Abbot and Ernie McMillan, wanting to take a shortcut to the great hall, accidentally stumbled upon none other than Luna Lovegood and our own Daphne Greengrass making out!"

"Daph? No! She would have told me!" Pansy protested.

"Daphne with Loony? That's preposterous!" Theo said.

"Let's keep in mind that the source of information are two Hufflepuffs," Draco added contempously. "Are we really going to take their word for it?"

"Most certainly not!" Pansy said. "If it were the case, I would know. I'm sure of it. Blaise, you're a fool."

"Excuse me?" Blaise exclaimed, looking offended. "If you're so sure I'm wrong, then surely you wouldn't mind betting another twenty galleons on it, now would you?"

Pansy hesitated for a second, throwing a suspicious look at her friend, before her pride won out. "Sure, Blaise, if you want to give me your money so badly I won't object. Twenty galleons it is!"

"On that note, I'm heading out. You people are exhausting," Draco said, leaving the Slytherin Common Room.

"Have fun, Drakey!" Pansy shouted. "But remember to do it safe, wouldn't want a brat running around next year, now would you?"

"Fuck off, Pansy," Draco repeated his earlier words.

Blaise, meanwhile, had a hard time containing his victorious snicker. The story he'd just told his friends hadn't been entirely true, after all, for it was he that had walked in on Luna and Daphne snogging. After recovering from the shock of his discovery, he had quickly devised a way to earn back the twenty galleons Pansy had taken from him, and it had worked out perfectly.

It was a good thing his friends were so predictable.

* * *

 **Reviews are always very much appreciated!**


	15. Fifteen: Brave new world

**I've never been to London, so any mistakes may be blamed on that. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

When Saturday dawned, Hermione was already awake, pacing restlessly. She was nervous, there was no denying that. She wanted the pure-bloods to change their minds about Muggles, and even though she knew that probably wouldn't happen in a day, it was still very important to her that today went well. She couldn't explain just why this was so important to her, although if she was being entirely honest with herself she'd have to admit that she wanted Draco to change his mind more than anyone else. She couldn't deny he was having an increasingly important role in her life, and that she was growing fonder of him with every day that passed.

(Mostly, that is. There were also days that she simply wanted to strangle him.)

By ten o'clock, they all met in the entrance hall. All but Luna, that is. A very grumpy looking Theo complained about having to get out of bed too early and demanded they leave without the latecomer.

"Honestly, Theodore," Hermione rebuked him. "It's ten in the morning, not six. No need to be so dramatic. I'm sure she'll be here any minute."

She took a moment to observe how they all were dressed; it was rather odd to see them all in Muggle clothing. She'd transfigured Draco's clothes into jeans and a shirt, and she had to admit he looked rather good in them.

In the end, twenty minutes passed, and when Luna showed up, it was with Daphne Greengrass in tow.

"Sorry we're late," Luna said. "We went to see McGonagall to ask if Dapnhe could come along. You don't mind, do you?"

"You have got to be kidding me!" Pansy yelled. "Come on, Daph, how could you not tell me? I expected better from you!" That being said, she handed Blaise twenty galleons. "I hate you," she told him. "And I know you cheated, somehow. You will regret it."

Both Draco and Theo were snickering, but they quickly shut up at the glare she fixed on one then the other.

"What is going on?" Ron asked, looking at all the Slytherins confusedly.

"Daph is, apparently, dating Loony. Blaise told us but we refused to believe him so he and Pansy betted twenty galleons on it, and long story short they might as well stop this whole betting nonsense because it always ends back at the start," Theo answered.

"That's because he always cheats!" Pansy exclaimed, pointing at Zabini. "I earned that money fair and square, like I always do, but then he acts like the arsehole he is and tricks me into giving it back."

"So just stop letting him goad you!" Theodore said, growing a bit tired at his friends' antics.

"Oh so now it's my fault? Why don't you just tell him to stop cheating!"

"GUYS, PLEASE!" Hermione shouted. "Can we keep this pointless discussion for a latter date so we can finally leave, now?"

"Fine," Pansy said, before exiting the castle in a huff. The others followed her, Daphne and Luna walking a couple of paces back, hand in hand.

"I didn't see this coming, at all," Hermione admitted in a hushed voice to Ginny and Draco, who were each walking on one side of her.

"No one did, I should think," Draco said.

Upon noticing the look on Ginny's face, Hermione said: "You knew, didn't you?"

"Of course I did. I always notice these kind of things, and Luna isn't half as reluctant to share interesting information as you are, Hermione."

"I should hope Hermione isn't as eager to share as most of you Gryffindors seem to be," Draco said, throwing a disdainful look at Ginny. "Anyone with half a brain knows that it is unwise to share much personal information."

"And anyone with decent friends knows that they're the exception," Ginny retorted. "It's not because you Slytherins are untrustworthy little—"

"Ginny! Enough!" Hermione interrupted her friend, before another fight broke out. "Can you all please just behave, today? I'd like this day to not end in catastrophy, if possible."

"Not very likely," Draco mumbled, before catching up with Theo.

There were three more squabbles before they arrived at the Three Broomsticks, a fact that Hermione attributed (and rightly so) to the Pure-bloods' nervousness. So, with considerable effort, she stayed calm and refrained from responding to offense, although the same could not be said from her friends. She was infinitely grateful for the calming presence of Luna and Daphne. Luna, for being unaware of any brewing tension and accidentally interupting a fight with such an odd question that it silenced everyone, and Daphne who had apparently taken on the role of mediator and tried to keep her housemates in check.

When they entered the Three Broomsticks, Draco stiffened and paled at the sight of Madam Rosmerta. Hermione noticed and, forgetting his previous crossness, took hold of his hand. This was no gesture of pretense, meant to fool others into believing they had married for love. This was comfort, support, even affection, and they both knew it. As soon as Hermione realized the meaning of her gesture, she wanted to jerk her hand back, frightened at Draco's possible negative reaction, but instead, after a first moment of shock, he squeezed her hand in what she assumed was gratitude.

Rosmerta, having been warned by McGonagall as to who exactly was going to show up in her bar, didn't show any emotion on her face and instead lead the students to her Floo, not once looking at Draco.

"See you in the Leaky Cauldron," Hermione said, throwing Floo powder in the fire and going in first. She had asked Harry to go last, to make sure no one tried to sneak off at the last minute.

She was too slow in moving away from the hearth, however, and Draco stumbled into her, almost sending the both of them to the ground. He managed to keep them upright by belting an arm around her waist, and immediately moved a few steps away from the fire where Zabini already appeared.

"Silly Granger," he said, still holding her tight. "Don't you know you always have to clear a public Floo? It can lead to terribly awkward situations otherwise, you know."

"I guess it's a good thing you were next, then," she said, leaning into him. She rather liked the feeling.

"Are you sure you don't want to ditch the rest and this crazy plan? We could—"

"Oh no!" she interrupted him, stepping away immediately. "You won't be able to convince me to give up on this idea."

He smirked in an arrogant and yet somehow very attractive way. "Oh, I think you'll find I can be very persuasive, sweetheart."

"Tsk, Draco," Blaise intervened. "Keep it in your pants, will you? This is a group activity."

Draco rolled his eyes but refrained from replying, and soon they were all gathered in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Shall we go, then?" Hermione said.

"Don't we have time for a fortifying drink before leaving?" Pansy asked, her face a shade paler than normally.

"Seriously? It's eleven in the morning," Hermione replied. "Look, it's really not as bad as you all think, alright? Just follow my lead."

It was pretty bad, at first. The cars, the red lights, the noise, the crowds,... It was all rather overwhelming. Draco jumped away everytime someone brushed against him; Blaise almost got hit by a car, twice, and by a bycicle, thrice; Theodore became so nervous he clinged to Harry, who was a bit confused but, after trying to shrug him off and failing, just kind of let it happen, to Ginny's merriment; they would've lost Luna, possibly forever, if Daphne hadn't been paying such close attention to her; and Ron was delighted when he discovered there were places you could get something to eat 24/7.

In fact it was Ron who got used to the situation the quickest of them all, and Hermione was rather proud at how easily he adapted to this new world. Where the Slytherins, and to a lesser extent Ginny, were so intimidated that they scarce dared look around properly, Ron started to ask questions about... well, pretty much everything he saw. At first, Hermione was more than happy to answer and explain all she could, but after a while it grew tiresome.

"What's that?"

"That's a dog, Ronald. We have those in the wizarding world, too."

"Right. But it's so small! Why is it so small? And, hey, is that an icecream shop? What kind of flavours do they have? Do they taste differently than in the wizarding world? And—"

"Weasley, if you don't shut your mouth right this instant I will push you under one of those buses," Pansy said threateningly.

"I'll help," Ginny volunteered.

Ron reddened a bit, glared at both Pansy and his sister, and muttered something about 'stupid Slytherins always ruining everything'.

"Don't worry, Ron," Hermione said. "We'll come back, and then I'll explain some more, alright? As for now, we've arrived at our first destination: The National Gallery!" She gestured at the impressive building up the stairs and was happy to notice they all seemed impressed by it.

"How about we all just go our own way and meet back here in... say, two hours?"

They all nodded before venturing inside. Hermione wandered off on her own, as she always preferred to do when in museums. For some time she was utterly and entirely absorbed in the wonderful world of paintings, forgetting about her troubles, her reason for being there, and who she came here with.

It was only when she noticed Draco staring intently at a painting, alone also, that she was reminded of the purpose of her visit.

"And, what do you think of it?"

"I'm not sure yet," Draco answered, his head cocked to the side. "It's so very different. In our world, paintings are useful. Portraits we can communicate with, historical happenings, and the like. But this, for example," he gestured at Van Gogh's sunflowers, "it has no purpose other than beauty."

"I wouldn't say that," Hermione disagreed. "Art is all about emotions. It's purpose is to make you feel something."

"Oh. Yeah, I suppose I can see that. Why is it so different?"

"I've wondered that for quite some time, too. My theory is that wizard society, convinced of their superiority, kind of stagnated at a certain point, while Muggles never ceased inventing new things, discovering and understanding the world, pushing themselves to the limit,... Just think of how much the wizarding world still has to learn!"

Draco shot her an odd look, but didn't protest. The museum must have made quite an impression on him.

* * *

A while later they joined the others at the entrance of the museum.

"So, did you guys like it?"

"Yes," Luna answered. "Did you notice other people's expressions while they were looking at the paintings? It was fascinating, really."

Daphne smiled affectionately. "She spent more time watching other people than the art, actually. I quite liked some of it, although it was a tad long in the end."

"I liked it," Theodore said, looking troubled. "It was most impressive. I must admit to being a bit rattled."

"That's perfectly normal," Hermione said with a kind smile. "It will take some time to adjust."

"What's next?" Harry asked.

"I'd say it's time for food," Blaise said.

"I couldn't agree more," Ron said, with an approving look at the Slytherin.

"Alright. I'm going to bring you somewhere that not everyone likes, but it is something you don't find in our world," she said, careful to not mention strange words that could be overheard. "Please give it a chance before you start judging."

And then she brought them to a McDonalds.

* * *

Granted, it had been a risk. She knew that. But Harry too had supported her idea, and she figured she might as well give it a try. As soon as they entered, however, the pure-bloods balked.

"This is horrendous!" Pansy exclaimed.

"Despicable!"

"Gross!"

"Granger, no offense, but this looks like a place for poor people. We are not poor, so why don't we go to a nice and expensive restaurant, huh? My treat," said Blaise, earning himself an exasperated look from all those who were not in Slytherin.

"Just give it a try," Harry said. "It tastes great. Like, seriously, it'll change your lives."

This, apparently, was enough to convince Ron, Ginny and Luna. They all followed the Chosen One to order their meal. The Slytherins didn't budge.

"I'm going to get some food, too," Hermione told them. "Considering the fact that you know nothing of this side of town and I'm the only one with appropriate money, I suggest you follow."

They hesitated for a while, looking displeased, but, in the end, Blaise was the first to capitulate. "What? I'm hungry," he said. "Tell me what to pick, Granger. If you insist on taking me here, the least you can do is get me the best," he added rudely.

"Careful, Blaise," Draco spoke through gritted teeth. "I'm as displeased with this situation as you are, but have a care at how you talk to my wife."

Blaise stiffened. "Of course. My apologies, Hermione."

Hermione stared at the two men, wide-eyed. What just happened? Pansy offered her a pitying look. "If you are so determined to teach us about your world," she said. "Allow me to offer you the same courtesy. You have a lot to learn about how we grew up."

"I'd appreciate that, yes," Hermione answered. "And apology accepted, Blaise, although you'll have to choose for yourself. I would have helped you, gladly, if you had simply asked."

"Fair enough," he said. "You'll still pay, right? I don't have any Muggle money."

He was immediately hushed by Ginny and Theo. "People will hear."

"Of course I'll pay. Now just pick a menu, will you?"

She leaned towards Draco, so she could talk to him without being overheard. "That's the second time you defend me like that. And against your friend now, too. Was it necessary to be so harsh to him? He's nervous and uncomfortable, and I could have handled it."

Draco sighed. "I'm sure Pansy will explain it, it's a pure-blood thing."

"But—"

"Look, you want me to see more of the Muggle word, right? To understand it? Well, I'm here, and I'm trying. I ask that you do the same for the old wizarding traditions."

Hermione sucked in a breath of air. She knew he was right, that she ought to compromise, but... "It's rather hard to bring up the desire of learning more about those traditions when they are the reason people have tried to kill me since I was twelve years old, Draco."

He looked at her for the longest time. "Seems a bit unfair to judge an entire culture based on the behaviour of a few extremists, don't you think?" he said. "I agree that there is a lot that should be changed or discarded altogether, but not everything pure-blooded is evil, you know."

"Hermione? Time to pay!" Ginny called her away before she could answer, and she was glad for it. She could not deny that Draco was right, but she wasn't quite ready to embrace those traditions either. Some things took time.

Once they all had their food, Harry, Ron and Hermione dug in without hesitation. "Damn," said Ron. "This is really good."

"Right?" Hermione and Harry said at the same time.

Ginny and Luna were convinced soon enough, and were both delighted at the unexpected taste. Pansy tried a fry then, and the shock on her face when she discovered she quite liked the taste was worthy of a picture. "This is really good," she said, promptly stuffing her face with a mouthful more.

Blaise succombed as well then. "You're all exaggerating," was his opinion. "It's not that good. But it isn't as bad as I thought it would be, either."

Theo agreed with Blaise, but Draco? He took a liking to it. In fact, as soon as he finished his own meal, he started stealing fries from Hermione.

"Draco Malfoy, you stop it right this instance or you will come to regret it."

"Of course, dear," he said, before stealing another fry.

"Why you little—" Without a moment's hesitation, Hermione smeared some ketchup in her husband's hair. "There," she said, with satisfaction. "That'll teach you."

Her friends burst out laughing, quickly followed by Draco's friends too, while Draco looked at Hermione with his mouth wide open, betrayal in his eyes.

"How dare you?" he finally said. "My hair!"

This only caused the group to laugh harder, while Hermione wisely put some distance between herself and Draco. "I warned you," she defended herself. "You didn't listen."

"You will regret this," he told her, before heading to the toilets, probably to spell his hair clean.

When she stopped laughing, Hermione began to realize that she might be in trouble, because she had a feeling Draco most definitely intended to keep his word and a vengeful Slytherin was never a good thing. But there was no time for worrying at the moment.

It was time to go to the movies.

* * *

 **What did you think?**


	16. Sixteen: Let's go to the movies

**In order to remain correct with time regarding movies in 1998, I did not have as much choice as I expected. The one I found, however, seemed very appropriate and also happens to be a movie I like, so I hope you are not disappointed in my choice!**

* * *

At first, some of the boys (and Ginny) balked at the title. _Shakespeare in Love_ indeed sounded, for those who did not know Shakespeare, as a not so promising story.

"It sounds boring!" Ron summed up what they all thought.

Draco, however, seemed intrigued, and for the first time since the ketchup-incident looked at his wife with anything other than loathing. Hermione could freely admit to herself that her reasons for picking this particular movie were mostly selfish; it was the movie she wanted to see most, and she was sure that Draco would appreciate her picking the one Muggle he actually knew something about. Considering it also had great reviews, the rest would just have to shut up and deal with it.

The movie was absolutely wonderful, in Hermione's humble opinion. When she noticed Draco murmuring some of Shakespeare's lines along with the actors, however, she found it dreadfully difficult to keep her attention on the screen.

"This may be my first movie," he whispered at a certain point. "But I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to be watching me all the time."

"Sorry," she answered, blushing. "Did you know that Muggles often go to the movies for a date?"

"You mean like the snogging couple over there?"

"Yes, I suppose." She couldn't help a chuckle. "Merlin, have they no shame?"

"It is a rather disgusting spectacle," Draco agreed. "Pass me the popcorn." He proceeded to throw some at the kissing couple, who seemed to have figured out a way to survive without oxygen.

The boy startled, detaching his lips from his partner, and looked behind him. Draco had already given the popcorn back to Hermione, and now looked at her disapprovingly.

Of course, the boy took this to mean that Hermione was the devilish popcorn-thrower, and glared at her so fiercely she could distinguish his features despite the darkness of the room.

"Seriously?" she hissed. "What is wrong with you?"

The people behind them shushed her almost aggressively, and she instinctively leaned towards Draco and hid her face in his neck. "I have now officially become one of the people I used to hate, thanks ever so much, Draco."

He chuckled and wrapped his arm around her, allowing her to get even closer to him. "Sorry, sweetheart, but it was either throwing popcorn at them or following their example. I figured that option would make you even more uncomfortable, considering your ex is sitting a few seats further."

Suddenly, Hermione couln't help but regret, just a bit, that she hadn't had the foresight to bring only Draco to the movies. His words combined with his smell and his arm around her brought forward some thoughts that she should probably not be thinking at that moment. When, moments later, Draco not so subtly put his hand on her thigh, slightly higher than was proper, she knew their minds were on the same track. His thumb caressed her leg,sending shivers down her spine, and she was certain they would both have forgotten themselves and done something unforgivably stupid had not someone passed them to go to the bathroom, making them jump apart.

Hermione was grateful for the darkness in the movie theatre, hiding the scarlet color of her cheeks, although why the theatre suddenly was a great deal warmer than before was a mystery.

"We should probably pay attention to the movie," she said.

"Which I was doing," he pointed out, "until you distracted me."

"Oh, hush," said she. It was a good thing that the movie was good, and she was sucked back into the story quickly. And if she leaned against Draco and took hold of his arm, he made no comment of it. Although he couldn't help but realize that it was rather remarkable how she tended to hold onto him when she was unaware of her movements.

At the end, Blaise, Pansy and Hermione couldn't help but tear up a bit when the lovers were forced to part, Draco was actually smiling, not smirking, and as soon as the movie was over Ginny and Harry set out to recreate the swordfight scene with the straws from their drinks.

All in all, going to the movies had been a wonderful idea.

They all went to a bar for a drink and Harry and Hermione laughed at the pure-bloods' reacion to the music.

"It's incredibly how much less prudish Muggles are," said Blaise, upon hearing the lyrics. "I mean, there were some scenes in that movie that would make many of the older generation witches and wizard close their eyes in shame!"

"And you haven't even been to a Muggle party yet," Hermione commented, sipping from her glass of wine.

"Can we go?" he asked, immediately enthusiastic.

"Perhaps another time," Hermione answered, not really in the mood for a party.

"Did they really sink a ship for the movie?" Ron then asked. "It seems a bit dangerous."

"What? No!" said Harry, laughing. "They use special effects and the like. I'm not sure how it really works."

All eyes turned to Hermione, who looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "What makes you think I am so well versed in how movies are made? I've hardly spent more time in the Muggle world than you, these past years!"

"Granger, watch it," Draco said, looking around to make sure no one noticed her choice of words. "Who thought it was a good idea to give her wine? By Merlin, you're a lightweight."

"Oh, nonsense, Draco," she replied. "I'm no such thing. And that was not an answer to my question anyway!"

"Well, I just assumed you knew everything," Pansy said with a shrug.

"That's ridiculous!" Hermione said. "Knowing everything is impossible."

"Yes, well, can we go back to the subject of parties, please?" said Blaise, leaning towards Hermione and subtly refilling her glass. "What are they like?"

She looked down at her glass, then back up at Blaise, then at Draco, who smirked, then back at Blaise. "What is it with you people and trying to get me drunk? Ginny, was this your idea?"

"What? Of course not, Hermione, how could you even think that?" Ginny said dramatically.

"Why would Ginny have anything to do with Blaise?" Harry asked, surprised at Hermione's line of inquiry.

"Well, she knew about the bet!"

All Slytherins and Ginny groaned.

"What bet?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Shit," Draco muttered. "Shit, I need to get out of here."

"Nothing, Harry dear," Ginny said with a sickly sweet smile. "Right, Hermione?"

"Right," Hermione answered, finally realizing her error. "I must be drunker than I thought, don't pay attention to me!" She waved her hand as if she could make them all forget with only a gesture, but it was too late for that. Harry was nothing if not persistent.

"Ginny, what is she talking about?"

"You know these bets between Blaise and Parkinson, the ones they were talking about this morning?"

"Yeah."

"Blaise asked me about something to confirm who won their latest bet. It's really nothing important, it had to do with the evening in Vegas." Draco held a new-found respect for the youngest Weasley; she'd come up with a perfectly good explanation that was technically not a lie. Impressive.

"Are you reffering to the bet regarding when Hermione and Draco would have sex again?" Luna aske innocuously.

A painful silence fell over the group.

"YOU WHAT?" Ron yelled.

"When, not if?" Harry asked, perplexed.

"I think I need to go to the toilet," Hermione mumbled, before standing up.

"Don't you dare leave me alone," Draco protested. "This is all your fault!"

"Maybe we should all leave," Pansy said. "Before we make an even bigger scene."

Everyone agreed with that, and Harry and Ron were quickly ushered outside. Ginny dragged her brother with her, Luna had a firm hold on Harry's arm, and the Slytherin's walked in between them and the Malfoys, making sure Ron couldn't suddenly attack Draco.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione mumbled. "I wasn't thinking."

Draco shrugged. "They would've found out anyway, I suppose."

"So you're not angry?"

"They're your friends, not mine. As long as you make sure they don't harm me, it's really not my concern. My friends already know, because they're not total idiots."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but said nothing. They all walked in silence until they floo'ed back to the Three Broomsticks, where Ginny convinced Harry, Ron, Luna, Daphne, Theo and Blaise to stick around for another drink. Draco and Hermione were all too eager to return to the castle and forget all about this, and Pansy walked with them.

"Are you alright?" Hermione couldn't help but ask the unusually quiet girl.

"You're such a Hufflepuff," Pansy said. "Always worrying about other people's feelings. How do you stand it, Draco?"

"I've learned to tune it out," he answered with a grin, throwing his arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"Shut up," Hermione told him. "Pansy, there's really no shame in having a proper conversation sometimes."

"I'm just tired, Granger," Pansy said. "Drop it. I have a lot of new information to digest."

Even Draco grew serious at her downtrodden tone. "They won't hold it against you forever," he said gently, bumping his fist against Pansy's arm without force. "You know that, right?"

Hermione observed the two friends with keen interest. It was rare to see a moment of genuine concern between the Slytherins, as they always pretended to be so tough.

"Oh, Salazar," Pansy said, with a horrified expression. "The Hufflepuff is catching on! Run for your lives!"

"You're not running," Draco remarked. "You look like an idiot when you say that but can't even be bothered to run yourself."

"Shut it, Draco. I don't run, it's unladylike."

"Not to mention you're probably immune to any and all sorts of niceness, so you don't have to worry anyway," Draco added.

"No offense, Draco," said Hermione. "But a couple of months ago I would have said the exact same thing about you."

"Granger, if you're not going to be on my side, then please refrain from intruding in this conversation between old friends."

"No, no," Pansy protested. "We can't exclude her when she's walking with us, that would be unforgivably rude. Please, Granger, keep talking."

"You're both ridiculous," Hermione said. "And you need to stop calling me Granger."

"Apologies, Mrs Malfoy," Pansy said theatrically. "Old habits die hard."

Both Draco and Hermione shuddered. "Don't call her that."

"I'm far too young to be a Mrs."

"You should have thought about that before you married him," Pansy said. "Although there's something I've been wanting to tell you."

"Oh?"

"Thank you," Pansy said earnestly. "Thank you for saving my friend from an arranged and never-ending marriage to that bitch Astoria Greengrass, because he would have been the unhappiest of people if that dreadful event had happened."

Both Draco and Hermione were shocked at this unexpected declaration.

"Pans," Draco said. "Did you, perchance, recently have a disagreement with Astoria? I can't recall you being this vehement on the subject before."

"I assure you that my personal feelings towards the girl have little to do with it. I've never liked her, although the fact that the little upstart tried to take my spot in front of the fire just last night reminded me of the as of yet unsaid thanks I owed your wife, Draco dear."

"She dared to try and take your spot?" Draco exclaimed. "How on earth did she justify that?"

"Something about our year of Slytherins having fallen out of grace and not being important anymore. I've set her right immediately, of course."

"You ought to tell Daphne."

"She'll be no help. As soon as her mother hears about her latest affiliation with the Lovegood-girl she'll be disinherited, and Astoria won't listen to her."

Hermione was listening to the rather perplexing exchange, bewildered. "I don't understand what's happening," she blurted out.

"In Slytherin where you can sit depends on your rank, birth and age," Draco explained. "Trying to take someone else's place is daring and usually not well received."

"I am so glad that I am not a Slytherin," Hermione said. "That's ridiculous!"

"Ah, yes, I'm sure that in the Gryffindor common room you can sit wherever you want, and you all braid each other's hair and sing songs all the time. Too bad you're now forced to spend your time with Draco," Pansy said.

"Shut it, Pans," Draco retorted. "I happen to be amazing company."

The two girls shared a meaningful look, and then burst out in giggles, ignoring an affronted looking Draco.

* * *

When they finally reached their dorm again, Draco immediately picked up Hermione and proceeded to throw her on the bed.

"At last," he said. "Next time we go to the movies, let's buy out the entire theatre so we have it just for ourselves. I've never detested other people more."

He smothered Hermione's laughter with a passionate kiss, one she could feel in her toes, and she quickly forgot all about everything else. He kissed his way down her body, divesting her of her clothes along the way, until he reached the place she so desperately wanted him to touch.

He licked up her slit and sucked on her clit, inserting first one then two fingers inside her, and she could feel her orgasm building and building, until she was mumbling incoherently.

"Yes, yes, please, don't stop, oh don't stop!"

He stopped.

"Wh... What are you doing?" she managed to articulate, breathing heavily.

"Tell me I'm amazing company," he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Unless, of course, you don't think so?"

"Are you serious?" she exclaimed. He didn't move. There was a part of her that didn't want to give him the satisfaction, but then the other, far bigger part of her really wanted him to get on with it. "Yes, Draco, you're amazing company, when you choose to occupy your mouth with something other than talking, at least."

This suffised, apparently, and soon she was coming loudly, her fingers buried in his hair and her thighs clamping around his head.

"No more hair-pulling," he told her when her body slumped back against the mattress. "It hurts."

"Sorry," she said, a pleased smile on her face. "I'll make it up to you."

And so she did.

* * *

That night, laying in bed next to Draco, Hermione had quite a lot of things to think about. The succes of the excursion in the Muggle-world (because yes, she considered the day a succes, up until her unfortunate slip-up), her growing affection for the prat she called her husband, the fact that Pansy Parkinson turned out to be rather likable, and how on earth was she going to face her friends the next day?

She had no choice but to conclude that it was rather nice to worry about things without having to fear for your life. Sure, her situation could by no means be described as normal, but the difference was still remarkable. Good riddance to you, Voldemort.

 **Your reviews keep me going, so feel free to write one!**


	17. Seventeen: Fights and friends

**My apologies for the long wait, but I've started my master at uni and it is a lot of work, so I'm afraid updates will be less regular from now on. Many thanks to those who reviewed, you keep me motivated!**

* * *

The next day Draco practically had to drag Hermione to breakfast.

"Can't we just stay in our dorm until classes? I see no need to go down all these stairs!"

"Neither do I, Granger," he said. "But the longer you postpone seeing your friends again, the worse it's going to be. Not to mention you've been fretting for an hour already and it's driving me mad. Get it over with, I'm sure it won't be so bad."

"Have you met my friends?" she retorted. "Oh wait, yes, you have, you've bullied them for years, which is what makes what happened between us so crazy!"

Draco grit his teeth, refusing to let her bait him. "I'm aware of all of that, yes. But your friends trust you, do they not? You'll have to convince them to trust your judgment."

"But what do I tell them, Draco? This is all so confusing!"

To that question he had no answer ready. "Euh, I don't know. What do you want to tell them?"

"You're no help whatsoever!" she exclaimed, annoyed, before she started to pace. Draco didn't really understand what he was doing wrong, and there was a very large part of him that wanted to leave her to figure it out on her own, he'd tried after all. But no, he knew she'd probably break down if left alone with her thoughts, not to mention he played a large part in the fight she no doubt was about to have with her friends. The least he could do was support her.

Merlin, Pansy was right! He sounded like a Hufflepuff.

"Hermione," he said, stopping her. "We're two consenting adults who happen to enjoy spending time together. It's not their place to judge you."

She wasn't sure what she wanted him to say, all she knew was that there was a feeling of disappointment at his casual words. They happened to enjoy spending time together, he said, but what did it mean? This was no casual thing for her, not anymore. She genuinely liked him, and the idea that he still stuck with her for no other reason than their marriage was excruciating.

But no, this was nonsense. She tried to calm herself down, to think rationally. Draco had been kind to her, interested in her, even affectionate with her. He was not the sort of man to do that if he didn't feel like it. No, there was no point in worrying. Things were good between them for the moment, time would tell the rest. Time? Five years, only five years, then they'd go their separate ways...

Her thoughts were interrupted when Draco gave her a gentle push and she crossed the threshold of the Great Hall, immediately noticing Ron's deathglare and the way Harry was studiously avoiding her gaze.

Oh gods, this was a disaster. If only she'd never laid eyes on Draco Malfoy!

"Come on, Hermione," Draco said, accompanying his words with a reassuring touch on her arm. "They're your best friends. They'll get over it."

"I wonder," she mumbled, before turning around and planting a kiss on his cheek. It was only when she sat at the table already that she realized that she had not thought about how they were supposed to be married when she did that; she'd simply wanted to express her gratitude for his patience.

"Good morning, Hermione," Ginny said with a cheerful smile. So cheerful, in fact, that Hermione was sure she was trying to compensate for the boys' moroseness.

"Hey, Ginny. How was the rest of your weekend?"

Ginny nodded her head towards Harry and Ron. "Not quite as relaxing as I like my weekends to be. Ron especially acted like a five year old throwing a tantrum."

"You're going to blame this on me?" Ron exclaimed. "She's the one that's betraying us!"

"Okay, outside, now. All of you," Ginny said, in a tone so reminiscent of her mother that they all obeyed without question.

As soon as they were outside and the appropriate spells had been cast, Ginny continued. "Talk it out, and do it now, otherwise you're going to blow the whole act and everyone is going to know Draco and Hermione aren't really married. Ron, I get that you're pissed, but please bear in mind that Hermione is still your best friend."

Ron didn't say anything and avoided Hermione's gaze, and she could feel fear gripping her heart tight. Was this going to be a repeat of third year? No, that she couldn't handle, she needed her friends by her side.

"Harry?" she asked, her voice cracking a bit.

"It's really not my place to be angry," he said. "But... Are you sure this is what you want? Does he even treat you well? What is even happening between you two? Is it just sex, or is there something more going on?"

"I'm... Yeah, I want this. He's changed, Harry, he really has. I mean, he's still an arrogant prat, but he treats me with respect."

"I know he changed," Harry said. "I've seen him in Muggle London, remember? But I guess I'm scared he just wants to use you to better his reputation, you know? That's what Malfoys are known for, after all."

Hermione shook her head decidedly. "He wouldn't do that."

Ron snorted. "He's got you wrapped around his finger already. It's really ridiculous, how easy you are to manipulate. Tell me, how much trouble did it cost him to get in your pants? You know he's only doing all this because of the fidelity-clause, right?"

"Ronald!" Ginny snapped, while Hermione felt the effect of her so-called best friend's words like a punch in the gut.

"Shut it, Ron," Harry added, looking at Hermione with compassion. "He doesn't mean that. He's just worried, is all."

"He has a fine way of showing it," she said, managing to keep from crying. "Gin, thanks for trying. Ron? You're an arsehole." She stomped off and was barely back inside the castle before the tears started flowing. It was all too much. She was overwhelmed, she still hadn't dealt with all the shit of the past year, she was married to her former bully, … She needed her friends to stick with her, through thick and thin, instead of planting doubts about her husband in her mind.

"Granger? What's wrong?" Theo turned the corner of the corridor she was standing in, almost walking into her.

"Will you guys never learn to stop calling me Granger?" she said with a teary laugh.

Theo gave her a cautious smile. "Yeah, well, I'm not going to call you Malfoy, that's too weird."

"How about Hermione, then?"

He pretended to look doubtful. "I don't know, it's a bit of mouthful."

"And Theodore is so much better?"

"Most certainly not, which is why my friends call me Theo." After another look at her red, blotched face, he added: "Do you want me to get Draco? Or Pansy?"

"Pansy doesn't strike me as the ideal person in a situation such as this one."

Nott smirked. "That entirely depends on what you need. If you want someone to insult your friends, there's no one better."

His answer was enough to make Hermione stop sniffling. "Just Ron would do," she admitted. "I must confess I wouldn't mind him being disparaged at the moment."

"What did he say?"

"He implied I was easy, and that Draco only slept with me because of that fidelity-clause."

"He did not!" Theo said, shocked. "Easy? You're literally married to the guy, what does he expect from you?"

Hermione managed a chuckle, but it was immediately followed by a sigh.

"You know, as clumsy as the Weasel no doubt formulated his sentiments, I'm sure they were all born from affection and worry. I don't think he meant to hurt you."

"I know that. He is a good man, and a good friend, despite his earlier words. The problem is he isn't likely to apologize, even when he did wrong. We didn't speak for weeks on end in third year, all because he thought my cat ate his rat, which was simply not true as the rat turned out to be Peter Pettigrew!"

Theo obviously had no clue as to what she was talking about, but he nodded sympathetically. "I'm sure he's grown up since then, he'll apologize sooner this time."

"You know, Theo, you're a very kind person."

"Occasionally, but don't get used to it," he said. "Shall we go to class?" He offered her his arm, and after a moment of suprise she took it. Like a true gentleman, he dropped her off at her class before having to hurry towards his own. Slightly bolstered, she entered the room.

She saw that Harry, dearest Harry, had kept a place for her while Ron sat with Dean Thomas, and the sight warmed her heart. She'd been afraid that, once again, Harry would remain neutral in a way that left her on her own more often than not, but that was foolish. They had all changed, and what they had gone through together last year was more than any fight could keep apart.

"I figured you wouldn't want to sit with Ron," Harry said.

"Thank you."

Harry shrugged. "I hope this won't last too long, but I totally get why you're angry."

"But you also get why he's so angry," Hermione said.

"Yeah. I mean, it's Malfoy. He's an untrustworthy little—"

"Draco is my husband, Harry. I understand why the two of you are reluctant to trust him, but please keep in my mind that I live with him, and have gotten to know an entirely different side of him. So watch your tongue when you talk about him."

Harry appeared taken aback by her vehement defence of Draco, and in all honesty so was she. When did she suddenly get a protective streak when it came to him? Then again, her husband had been keeping his friends and others in line when they attempted to speak ill of her for weeks. It was about time she returned the favor, even if he wasn't there to hear it.

"Hermione, please don't get angry at me for saying this, but are you sure you aren't in too deep? That he isn't being nice because it's suits him, and still prepared to drop you in five years?"

"Five years is a long time. I refuse to worry about that, I prefer to focus on the present."

Harry sighed deeply. "I trust you, 'Mione, you know I do. I just hope Ron will get his shit together and apologize, and you won't make him work for your forgiveness for too long."

"I can't make any promises," she said, but the smile on her face showed how pleased she was. She felt even better in Ancient Runes, a class she shared with Draco, when he immediately asked her how she was, and when she answered that she was fine, he pressed on, saying that Theo had run into her and said she'd seemed upset.

"Yes, he did a marvellous job cheering me up. Look, Harry and Ginny stand with me, no matter what, and Ron will come round. Don't worry about me."

"Then why were you so upset? There's something you're not telling me."

"Drop it, Draco."

"What did the Weasel say?"

"Leave me to deal with my friends. I can handle them."

Draco nodded in acquiescense. He'd get the truth out of Theo later, anyway.

* * *

That night, Draco received a letter that quickly made him forget all about the petty words of Weasley. His mother, between polite inquiries about Hermione's health and his classes, subtly but pointedly reminded him that a Muggle-born, while good publicity, was no fit wife, and that he should be more than eager to get rid of her.

 _I have consulted our lawyer, and he believes he might be able to find a loophole convincing enough that, given some persuasion, a judge will grant you a divorce by the end of the schoolyear. Sooner would not be wise, but if we use the agreement your father has made with Astoria Greengrass' father, your marriage with Miss Granger could be declared void.  
Isn't it wonderful? I know you've been hoping for this. Write back soon, my darling, and tell me how very pleased you are. _

"Fuck!" Draco muttered, throwing the letter away. "Can't she leave well enough alone?" Why it was that he was so displeased at having less time to spend with his wife, he wasn't quite ready to be admit, but he soon found a reason to be angry. He would not marry Astoria Greengrass, no matter how much his mother nagged! A little voice in the back of his head pointed out that perhaps he should tell Granger, give her a chance to make a decision. What if she desperately wanted to be free from him? She should at the very least know about the latest development regarding their marriage.

But no, he wouldn't tell her. He couldn't bear to hear Hermione telling him she wanted to be away from him as fast as possible. He was a selfish man, after all, and what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.


	18. Eighteen: Hogsmeade!

**Great news: I have a beta! special thanks to the wonderful wisecrackerme for helping me out. Any remaining mistakes are my own!**

 **I'm participating in NaNoWriMo this year, so I won't have all that much time to work on this story, but I have most of next chapter written so you shouldn't have to wait too long for that one. If anyone is participating as well, feel free to add me as a buddy! My username there is the same as here.**

* * *

"I get it, Granger, you're pissed, but honestly, what did you expect? I thought you knew he was a bit of an idiot when you befriended him!"

"Parkinson, you're really not helping your case. I don't even know why you insist on inviting him, anyway!" Hermione protested.

"Because Ginny says she and Harry will only join us if Ron is invited too," Pansy said, waving her hand around as if she could chase away the problem with a simple gesture. "Listen: when you have a fight with your friends, there are only two proper ways of handling it."

"Oh?"

"The first one being that you throw them out of your life forever, and you talk shit about them to everyone to such extent where all of your other friends dump them too."

"That sounds a bit drastic," Hermione noted.

Pansy sighed. "It's a necessary evil, Granger. Sometimes, you just have to put yourself first."

"Do you ever NOT put yourself first?" Hermione asked, unable to hide the amused smile on her face.

"I'm here, trying to help your ungrateful arse, aren't I? Now hush, here comes option two: you make them pay for what they did or said, and once they have suffered enough, you forgive them and let go of it. None of that ignoring nonsense, it lacks character."

"Pansy, we're both adults. We can talk it out."

"You're such a dreadful bore," Pansy drawled. "But whatever, if you insist. But do that by Saturday, then, because we are all going to Hogsmeade together. Oh, do you think you could ask Longbottom to join us?"

"Since when were you interested in getting to know Neville?"

"I'm not. At all. But I'm getting tired of seeing Theo staring at him with that sappy look in his eyes, so I figured if we throw them together that he'll either get over it or they'll fuck it out, you know?"

"Ew, Pansy. I'll ask him, but for Theo's sake. Not because you asked."

"Whatever, Granger. Now let's go back to not talking to each other, shall we?" Pansy stood up from the bench they had been sharing and strode back inside the castle, shoulders straight despite the disparaging looks of some of the younger students.

After that odd conversation, Hermione headed towards Draco, who had been sitting a bit further with a book, pretending not to watch them.

"I'm beginning to feel worried about how good you and Pansy are getting along," he said, dropping his book when she reached him and immediately burrowed into his shoulder for warmth.

Hermione chuckled. "I thought you'd be happy about that."

"I am," he admitted. "Pansy can be difficult to appreciate, but she's one of my best friends. I'd hate for you two to be at odds."

"No, I can honestly say that she's growing on me. She's still a bitch, though."

"Yeah, I suppose she is."

"Now if only you could give my friends a chance, we'd be making actual progress here," Hermione said.

"I like Ginny well enough!" Draco defended himself. "And Lovegood is rather amusing. Even Potter I can tolerate, but how do you expect me to be civil to Weasley after he called you a slut?"

Hermione looked up sharply. "Theo told you."

"Of course."

"Draco, please don't get involved in this. I know you have some weird protective streak that came into existence once we got married, but this you need to let me handle on my own."

"Some men consider it their duty to protect their wives' reputation," he responded, angry.

"Yes, well, welcome to the present, we strive for gender equality nowadays. If I need your assistance, I'll ask for it, but he's my best friend. I'll handle it." It took some effort not to show how much pain she still felt at the thought of it, but Draco was incensed enough as it was, no point in angering him further.

"You're impossible, you know that?"

She grinned at him. "You married me anyway, didn't you?"

"Only because I took pity on you, knowing as I did that no one else would ever deign to wed you."

"Hey! I'm the popular war hero in this relationship!" Hermione protested, laughing.

"Sweetheart, don't you know? Popularity is temporary. Being an aristocrat, however, lasts forever." He lifted his nose in the air and looked down at her, batting some imaginary dust from his shoulder.

"You know, Draco, I never knew you were like this."

"I'd say there was quite a lot you didn't know about me before this year, expect of course for the fact that I was a prat."

She nodded. "True. But still, I never pegged you as the funny type."

"You must've been blind and deaf then," Draco replied promptly. "I am and have always been hilarious."

"Gods, Draco! It's a miracle you can get through doors with that humongous ego of yours! Anyway," she said loudly, interupting his protests. "We're going to Hogsmeade with all the Slythindors this Saturday. That was what Pansy was telling me."

"Please tell me you didn't just say Slythindors with a serious look on your face," said Draco, looking as if he'd just eaten something far too sour to be good.

"I... Oh shit, I really did, didn't I?"

Draco snickered _._ "That Lovegood really is something. Even Daphne, who used to be one of the most rational, down-to-earth people I know, is starting to talk about Spartwucks or something."

"Wrackspurts," Hermione corrected him automatically. "They're invisible and make your brain go fuzzy."

"Please tell me you don't believe in that stuff."

"Of course not! Their existence has never been proven in any way, and there are more than enough fascinating magical creatures to learn more about that it is in no way necessary to make even more up. But still, Luna believes in them, and she's far more perceptive than most people give her credit for."

Draco snorted. "Sure she is."

"I used to think like you," Hermione told him. "Until I got to know her better. I'm sure you'll change your mind in time."

"Although, when you think about it, the abbreviation isn't correct," said Draco. "Lovegood is a Ravenclaw, so Slythindor makes absolutely no sense."

"Slythindorclaw sounds even worse though, doesn't it?"

"Oh Salazar, please don't give her any ideas."

* * *

"'Mione, can we talk?" Ron asked, after finding her in the library. He was standing by her table, not quite daring to sit down and looking highly uncomfortable. When she gestured at the chair facing hers, he sat down, offering her a sheepish smile.

"Why? So you can insult me some more?"

Ron reddened and dropped his gaze, taking hold of one of her quills and toying with it. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things."

Silence fell over them for a very long time. "I—" Hermione started. "I know, but I didn't expect you to admit it so easily."

"Yeah, well, we all grow up, don't we?"

"Did Pansy get to you?"

Ron blushed even more. "Maybe."

"How did she convince you to apologize?"

"Hermione, can you just let it drop? The important thing is that I'm apologizing, no?"

"Ronald, answer the question." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, trying not to show just how curious she was.

"Fine. She said she'd make Ginny write to mum about what I said if I didn't make amends before Saturday."

"Damn, that's brilliant," Hermione muttered. "That woman sure doesn't give up."

"She's terrifying, is what she is. But I would have told you I'm sorry, anyway," Ron said. "I don't know why I said all those things. I just felt so... betrayed, and angry. It was the Yule ball all over again. Which is ridiculous, because we both know we're better off as friends, and I'm not in love with you anymore, but I guess sometimes old habits die hard."

"I'm glad to hear your apology Ronald, but you really did hurt my feelings. You were way out of line."

"I know. But come on, you and Malfoy!"

"Don't even start!" Hermione stopped him, speaking through gritted teeth. "What Draco and I do is none of your business. I'm a grown woman, and I can make my own decisions. Moreover, you are the only one who hasn't even carried out the slightest effort to give the Slytherins a chance, because if you did you might have noticed that they're not that bad after all!"

"You sound like Ginny," Ron answered. "Look, 'Mione, I'm doing what I can, but we can't all be as forgiving as you and Harry are. And I worry that Malfoy is going to hurt you, I can't help it."

Hermione sighed deeply. "I know, Ron. Worry all you like, but can you please at the very least treat him with civility? And maybe stay out of his way for now, because he's itching to fight you after he heard what you said to me."

"You told him?" Ron exclaimed, shock written on his features. Hermione hushed him, looking around in fear of Madam Pince _._ Only when she was certain that the severe librarian hadn't noticed, she deigned to answer.

"No, I didn't, actually. I told Theo, who then proceeded to tell Draco. I would be cross with him for it had I not known how persuasive Draco can be."

Ron grimaced. "Godric, you sound like you're half in love with him already. Have you forgotten all that he's done to us?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Hermione protested, a tad too quickly. "And no, I haven't, Ron. I have an excellent memory."

"I'm not sure how to handle this, 'Mione," Ron admitted. "Harry said I should stand by you, no matter your choices, and I know he's right, but I don't know how to deal with this."

"If you think this is easy for me, then you have it all wrong. Ron, I have enough to think about without you acting like an arsehole all the time, so please, get your shit together." There was a steely undertone in her voice that Ron knew all too well. It told him that there was no use in trying to change her mind.

He chuckled. "Fair enough. I'll do what I can. You'll always be my best friend, you know that right?"

"It never hurts to hear it again," she said. "I suppose we can act civil for the duration of Hogsmeade, Saturday, but you're not forgiven yet."

"I know."

* * *

The week went on, filled with poor Harry trying to convince Hermione to forgive Ron and attempting to divide his time between his friends as equally as possible. Ginny was highly amused at Ron's grovelling, as were Theo, Pansy and Blaise, but Draco was still fuming every time he so much as saw the redhead.

"Draco, you will behave in Hogsmeade," Pansy told him sternly. "Remember that the press will most likely be there, so we can't have any fights. Granger's best friend and husband dueling would be terrible publicity."

"Fuck off, Pans," was Draco's reply. The warning stuck, however; you couldn't be raised by Narcissa Malfoy and grow up without the strongest distaste of public scenes.

Believe it or not, but his flair for dramatics came from his father, who could be quite theatrical in the privacy of his home.

Draco sighed. He tried not to think of it too much, but he did miss his father. Although it was probably a good thing the man was locked up in Azkaban, because otherwise he would have killed both his son and daughter-in-law for their stupidity.

"If you're done staring vacantly into the air," Blaise said, waving his hand in front of Draco's face. "Let's go to Hogsmeade!"

Having agreed to meet up with the Gryffindors later, at the Three Broomsticks, they spent some time buying far too many sweets at Honeydukes, and wasting their money at Zonko's (Blaise especially), before heading there.

"It's strange without Greg and Vincent," Draco whispered to Pansy. "It feels kind of wrong, you know?" Thinking about his old friends was enough to darken his mood considerably, and he was glad for Pansy's familiar presence.

She nodded. "Are you still in touch with Greg? I haven't heard a thing from him since he's started at Durmstrang."

"No. The last time I've seen him was at Vincent's funeral."

"You know he wouldn't want anything to do with you anyway, now that you're with Granger."

"Probably."

Dejected, they both walked a bit behind their friends. When Draco was once again confronted with his past sins in the form of Madam Rosmerta, he had a hard time fighting the impulse to turn around and leave.

"Hermione asked her if she was okay with you coming here, you know," a dreamy voice said from behind him. Luna stepped up next to him, staring at the busy woman at the bar.

"What makes you think that matters to me?"

She looked up at him, then, in a way that made it clear that his question was a stupid one.

"Forgiveness is a powerful tool, Draco," she continued. "For the person being forgiven as well as the person wronged. Hermione knows that, Harry knows that, and so does Madam Rosmerta. You have nothing to fear."

"I'm not afraid," Draco stated half-heartedly.

"Everyone is afraid. That's because of the amount of Sneezerbinjes that surround humans. You can't let them consume you, though. Tell me, Draco Malfoy, why is it that you persist on keeping others at a distance, even when they are willing to try their hand at friendship?"

"Is this your attempt at befriending me? Because you really need to learn how to be subtle," Draco said, his eyes fixed on Hermione who was giggling about something with Pansy.

"So do you," Luna responded, a mocking tilt to her lips. "If you can't even open yourself up to a potential friendship, then how do you expect to react when someone wants a real, honest relationship? It takes some practice, you know."

Draco looked startled and dropped his gaze. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, but he didn't even sound convincing to his own ears.

Luna patted him on the arm gently. "Don't worry, Draco. I'm sure you will figure it all out one day."

Feeling a bit disoriented by this unexpected conversation with Lovegood, Draco walked over to Hermione who welcomed him with a brilliant smile.

"Hey there! What were you talking about with Luna? You look a tad peaky," she said curiously.

"I'm fine," Draco replied. "Can I talk to you?" He added hesitantly _._

Looking a bit worried, Hermione nodded and followed him to the corner of the room, far enough from the rest not be overheard.

"Did you ask Madam Rosmerta if she was okay with me coming here?"

"I did," Hermione answered uncertainly. "Should I not have done that?"

"No, it's just... I didn't ask you to. Why did you even think to do that?"

"I... It's just that you seemed so uncomfortable last time, and I didn't want you to feel even worse should Rosmerta have said something to you. She told me you apologized after the war."

That last sentence escaped Draco's notice, he was too busy being overwhelmed by his own thoughts. He was not used to people going out of their way to make him comfortable without even wanting to take credit, and now the woman he used to bully was making sure he wasn't saddened even though he so obviously deserved to feel the guilt.

Draco had always been taught to protect himself, to keep his walls high, to guard his heart. Self-preservation was highly valued by both Slytherins and Malfoys, and opening up meant getting hurt or blackmailed. Trusting others was mere foolishness, and a mistake with anyone outside of his immediate family.

But perhaps it didn't have to be that way anymore. Perhaps with his caring, warm-hearted wife he could let go of his father's demands and rules. It was worth the risk, wasn't it? _She_ was worth the risk.

"Draco? You're not cross with me, are you?" Hermione asked, a worried pucker appearing between her eyebrows.

Instead of answering he leant down and pressed the softest, gentlest kiss on her lips, a kiss like he'd never given before. It gave Hermione the strangest feeling, as if she didn't really fit in her own skin anymore.

"Wow," she breathed when he let her go. "I take it you appreciated the gesture, then?"

Draco chuckled, still reeling from his revelations. "I appreciate you," he said honestly.

Hermione blushed with pleasure. "Sweet Merlin," said she. "Luna really did a number on you, didn't she?" She stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, with a similar intensity. "I appreciate you too, you know. More and more with every passing day."

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 **As always, your reviews are very strong motivators, so feel free to leave one!**


	19. Nineteen: An unexpected visitor

**Once again, my eternal gratitude goes out to wisecrackerme, and to every single one of you who reviewed, of course. My apologies for the delay, but I blame Nanowrimo.**

 **Hope you like it!**

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Hermione and Draco, being so absorbed in one another, at first did not notice that another group had entered the Three Broomsticks. It was only when the customers started to whisper excitedly that they noticed something was amiss.

"Hermi-ow-ninny, what a great surprise!"

Her mouth fell open in shock as Hermione saw Viktor Krum walking towards her. It had been years since she'd last seen him, and over a year since she'd last received a letter from him; she didn't exactly have time to keep up a correspondence during the past year. "Viktor!" she said, astonished. "What are you doing here?"

He laughed and gave her a hug in greeting. "We are here for a couple of weeks, for training and friendly matches, with my team," he answered, gesturing to the wizards and witches behind him. "I had planned to write to you, but this is even better. How have you been? I heard you were a hero during the war!"

"Oh, no, Harry was the one who killed Voldemort in the end; I just helped him. And I've been a lot better since then, unsurprisingly! I'm redoing my last year at Hogwarts. How are you?" "Great, I am very good. Glad to be back in England, and—"

Draco stopped listening to the Quidditch player he had once liked, focusing instead on his anger at being utterly and totally overlooked by his own wife, and that after what they just shared! Interrupting whatever it was that Krum was saying, he threw his arm around Hermione's waist and stuck out his hand, almost aggressively, in greeting. "Hello, Viktor," Draco voiced. "I'm Draco Malfoy, you might remember me from the Triwizard Tournament. I wasn't aware you and my wife were still in touch."

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Hermione glaring daggers at him, but he ignored her. The whole situation would have been comical with Krum's thunderstruck expression and Hermione's discomfort if Draco's ire had not been so genuine.

"Wife?" Krum asked, looking at Hermione.

"That's right," Hermione answered with fake cheerfulness. "Draco and I got married shortly before the beginning of the school year."

"I am surprised," Viktor said. "It is not what I expected from a Malfoy."

"Nor did my father, I'm sure," Draco said.

Viktor fixed Draco with a piercing gaze, before giving a short nod. "Congratulations to you both. I'm certain you'll be most happy. Herm-my-ow-ne, I hope you'll do me the honour of joining me for a drink one of these days? So we can catch up!"

"I would love to, Viktor," Hermione answered. "I'm sure we'll be more comfortable when we're not surrounded by people who listen in when it is absolutely none of their business to do so." She raised her voice at the end of her sentence, indicating she was talking about the many eavesdroppers that had neared them during the conversation, but the elbow she thrust in Draco's side made it plenty clear to him who she was referring to.

"Malfoy and Malfoy," Theo then yelled, standing before a door at the back of the pub. "Get over here before Pansy throws a fit!"

"If you'll excuse us," Draco said, almost dragging Hermione with him. She allowed it, but only because there were far too many eyes on them to do otherwise.

"Where are we going?"

"The backroom. Pansy doesn't like to be surrounded by the noise and all the people, so we always take a room for ourselves."

"Doesn't that defeat the whole purpose of going to a bar?"

Draco shrugged. "It's Pansy."

Theo ushered them into the room, and as soon as he had assured them it was soundproof Hermione whirled around and faced Draco. "What on earth were you doing back there?" she demanded to know, jabbing one finger into his chest.

"What I was doing? Introducing myself, since you oh-so rudely forgot to do that!"

"I was surprised by seeing someone I thought to be in another country, for the first time in years! Forgive me for not immediately putting you in the spotlight, no matter how much you love it there! Not to mention the whole 'my wife' thing! I'm not your possession to parade with as soon as another male enters the vicinity, you prat! Next thing you'll be telling me I'm not 'allowed'—" here she made air quotes with her hands— "to go have a drink with an old friend!"

"Not alone, you're not!" Draco shouted back.

"What? I—"

"Granger!" Pansy yelled, silencing the other girl. "Let me stop you right there. Remember how I said I'd teach you about wizarding customs? Here's lesson number one: it would indeed be most inappropriate for a married woman to go and dine or drink alone with a male who is neither family or an old family friend. So don't get angry at Draco for that, it is simply the way it is."

"That's ridiculous!" Hermione protested. "What about trust?"

"That has nothing to do with it," said Theo. "Look, we've all done our best to be open-minded when you brought us to your world, maybe it's time you do the same."

"Compromise, my dear Mrs. Malfoy," Blaise added. "It's the only way to make a relationship work, or so I've heard."

Hermione looked at Ginny, who nodded. "It's all true. And Blaise and Theo might have a point, you know!"

"Besides, Granger," Pansy said. "How would you like it if Draco went out to have drinks, alone, with a woman he hasn't seen in years but used to have a crush on?"

Reluctantly, Hermione had to concede that she would not like that. At all. But she'd be damned if she said that out loud, so instead she focussed on the other, more rational, arguments. Taking a deep breath, she admitted to herself that it was indeed her turn to make a concession to her husband's way of life. "Fine," she huffed. "I won't go with Viktor alone. Although I'm surprised he didn't know about this rule, he's a pure-blood as well, isn't he?"

"Oh, he knew," Draco said, scowling. "I believe he was testing us."

"So what am I supposed to do? Show up with Draco in tow? Because that'll end in disaster!"

"Take someone else," Ron offered. "I'm sure if Ginny comes along it won't be a problem."

Ginny smiled. "I sure wouldn't mind talking Quidditch with one of the best Seekers nowadays."

"Would you be okay with that?" Hermione asked Draco. He seemed a tad surprised that she'd bothered to ask him, but immediately hid it behind a massive pout. "Why do you have to go at all? He seems boring, anyway."

As much as she wanted to stay angry with her husband, Hermione couldn't help but think that he was kind of adorable when he did that. Plus, his reaction was rather flattering.

"Can you two maybe figure this out later?" Blaise said. "I'd like to have a drink and some fun. We've been forced to deal with your drama far too often already."

When everyone heartily agreed with that, they settled down and talked about nothing of great importance.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Harry whispered to Hermione, who was watching her friends with a little smile on her face. "Can you imagine what our lives would've been like if we didn't have to fight evil every year?"

"It _is_ very nice, yes, and no, I cannot. I imagine we wouldn't be half as close as we are today, the three of us, and I'm pretty sure Draco and his friends would still hate us, though, so I guess some good came out of it."

"I am surprised at how quickly you agreed to not meet Krum alone, though," Harry admitted. "I expected you to be a lot more stubborn about it."

"Don't tempt me. I think it's about time that wizarding society catches up with the Muggle way of life, but it's true that Draco has done his best to meet me in the middle. I figured it was time to do my part."

Harry smiled. "Looks like we're all growing up."

"Speak for yourselves," Ron said, joining them and handing them a butterbeer. "I'd rather be an irresponsible youth for a little while longer. We've been forced to grow up far too quickly."

"I'll drink to that!" Blaise called out, lifting his bottle. "To acting foolish and making stupid decisions!"

"But not you, Draco!" Theo said. "Your stupid decisions tend to have long-lasting consequences."

Everyone laughed while Draco rolled his eyes, a habit he no doubt picked up from Hermione.

"And maybe keep the alcohol away from Hermione," Ginny said. "Or she might just end up pregnant this time."

Hermione, who was at that exact moment taking a swig from her drink, almost choked on it. "Ginevra!" she shrieked. "Not funny!"

"They'd have adorable babies though," Luna remarked, shifting her gaze between Hermione and Draco. "And very clever ones too."

Hermione had never wanted the ground to swallow her so badly, and Draco looked so pale he was almost translucent. Thankfully, a change of subject presented itself by way of Neville, who entered the room. "Hey guys, sorry I'm late," said he.

"No problem whatsoever, Longbottom," Blaise said jovially. "Come and sit down." He pointed at the empty chair next to Theo, whose expression of horrified surprise made it clear that his friends had not bothered to warn him about Neville joining them.

Noticing how he immediately closed down and almost turned away from his crush, Hermione subtly made her way over to Blaise and Pansy. "You did not think this through," she hissed. "We need to help him!"

"Already on it!" Blaise said. "Alright guys, time for a round of shots! I have ordered Rosmerta's finest Fire-whiskey for this occasion, so no one will be backing out. Except for you, Hermione, no one—"

"Do not finish that sentence," Hermione said threateningly. "And hand me the damned shot."

"Alright then." Blaise did as he was asked, valiantly trying not to look intimidated while Draco chuckled.

She sat down next to her husband, who seemed content to forget all about their disagreement and put his hand on the back of her chair, toying with her hair. "Your friends are terrible," she complained.

"It was the Weaselette that came up with the pregnancy joke, so don't blame my—"

"WEASLEY YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Pansy shrieked, jumping up from her chair. "Do you know how much this dress cost me? Spill drinks on your own cheap clothes, next time!"

"Pansy, calm down," Hermione said. "It's nothing a spell can't fix."

"A spell? A spell? You imbecile, this is infinitely too expensive to be spelled! It's ruined!"

"Just buy more practical clothes next time," Ginny said with a shrug. "This isn't a gala."

"Of course you'd defend your brother! You've never been this close to something this expen—"

"Pans," Daphne interrupted her friend, a warning tone clear in her voice. "I don't think you really want to finish that sentence."

"Like hell she doesn't," Ron said, looking furious. "You can act as fake as you want with Hermione, but I know better. Some people never change."

All the colour drained from Pansy's face and she staggered back as if slapped. Draco stood up with such strength that his chair clattered to the ground, adding to the already tense atmosphere.

"Watch your fucking mouth, Weasley," he said, deceptively quiet. "You of all people should know how easy it is to say things you don't mean when things don't go your way, huh?"

"Shut up, Malfoy. Hermione's my best friend, you don't get to meddle. And I was angry about something a bit more serious than a stupid dress."

The situation was escalating quickly, everyone becoming more angry with every word that was spoken. Blaise had joined the fray, insulting Ron in defence of his friend, which in turn pissed of Harry, who stood up and started shouting at both Blaise and Draco. Neville stared at the group, obviously taken aback at the sudden change in atmosphere, while Theo blushed in shame for some of the things his friends were saying and Ginny was palming her face with such vigour she'd no doubt have a trace of her hand on her forehead. Hermione tried to make them listen to her several times, but it had no use; no one paid any attention to her. When she saw Ron's hand inching closer to his wand however, she knew she'd have to resort to more drastic methods.

"Silencio!" she shouted, wand pointed at her husband and friends, effectively shutting everyone up. Following that up with an Expelliarmus, she soon found herself with five wands in her hands and a lot of glares in her direction.

"Well played, Granger," Theo said appreciatively. She had made sure that her spell only affected the ones fighting, so Theo, Neville, Luna, Daphne and Ginny were still in possession of their wands and voices.

"Yes well, that's about as far as I got. I don't suppose you have any bright ideas to calm them down?"

Draco approached her, obviously intending to grab his wand back, but he was stopped by Harry, who looked ready to hit him in the face.

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" Hermione yelled. "Don't make me stick you to the walls, because I assure you that I will!" The threat in her voice was plain to hear.

Harry and Draco halted, and in a movement so identical it was funny, crossed their arms and glowered at her. Ginny burst out laughing.

"Damn, Hermione," said she. "I had never realized those two were so very alike."

Harry looked shocked, and mouthed what Hermione believed to be: 'I'm nothing like that prat!' Ironically, Draco had a similar look of horrified disgust on his face. Biting her lip to stop the giggles from escaping, she noticed the way Draco's gaze immediately dropped to her mouth. He really had terrible timing.

Flustered, she looked around, in vain, for a solution to the problem she was facing.

Ginny, seeing that her friend had no idea what to do, took pity of her. "Alright, listen up," she said. "Everyone is going to sit down and take it easy. If I hear anyone being rude once Hermione lifts that Silencio, it's a Bat Bogey Hex you'll have to look forward to. I'm nowhere near as nice as her, as I'm sure you all know."

Ron and Harry sat down without protesting, perfectly aware of just how serious the redhead was. Blaise followed their example, figuring he didn't really have a part in this quarrel anyway. Pansy stayed where she was, waiting, while Draco kept staring at his wife.

With one gesture of her wand, everyone regained their voice.

"Give me back my wand," Pansy said. "I'm leaving. I'd hate to bother you all with my unbearable presence."

"Pans, no, there's really no need for that," Blaise protested. "Let's just talk it out. I'm sure Weasley—"

"You don't know anything about me, Zabini, so shut the fuck up," Ron spat indignantly.

Meanwhile, Draco had crossed the distance between him and Hermione and grabbed his wand back. "Don't ever do that again," he said quietly.

"You didn't really give me a choice!" she protested. "If you think I'm enjoying this, you're wrong. I hate seeing you fight with my friends all the time."

"Why do you even care?" he said urgently, drawing her further from the others so they wouldn't be overheard.

"For the same reason that you want me and Pansy to get along!" she retorted.

"Yeah well, you can't really expect me to listen to whatever it was that arsehole of a Weasley says to one of my best friends and not get pissed about it!"

"It's not like she was being nice to him! He was hurt, he—"

"Why are you always defending him?" Draco hissed. "He basically called you a slut and you're still pissed at me if I so much as express my anger about that, and now he goes around and calls Pansy incurable evil and—"

"That is not what happened! He spoke out of anger, as did Pansy, and they both have their share of blame in this situation. They also both happen to be grown ups, capable of taking care of themselves, but no, you preferred jumping in and attacking Ron because you refuse to take a moment and try to understand what others might be thinking or feeling!"

"Of course it's my fucking fault. You know what, Granger, why don't you go and find your friend Krum, I'm sure he's infinitely more understanding."

Hermione had no idea what just happened, how their wonderful moment before had turned into such animosity in so little time, but the hurt she felt at his words turned into fury before her thoughts could catch up.

"You know what? I think he absolutely would be more understanding. I might just follow your advice," she spat out.

His sharp intake of breath and the hurt in his eyes made her realize her mistake almost instantly, but it was already too late. She could see him retreat behind his walls again, see the progress they made shrivel. Draco was not good at emotions and affection, she knew that. He'd dared to give her a part of himself before, when he told her he appreciated her, and now he felt rejected. Gods! She'd been the one totally lacking in understanding this time!

"Very well. Have fun, then," he said, and his voice sounded so cold it made her shiver. He was out of the room before she could answer.

"Damn it! Don't you storm off on me like that, Draco!" she yelled, trotting after him.

The other people in the room stared at the door, not fully comprehending what was going on.

"I hope you're happy now," Blaise said with a reproachful look at Pansy and Ron. "I hold you two personally responsible!"


	20. Twenty: That escalated quickly

**So... I know it's been forever, but real life has done everything she could to stop me from writing lately. I apologize and I hope you haven't forgotten this story yet. It's a short chapter, but that was the only logical place to end it, so I really am going to do everything in my power to update sooner this time. You might want to reread the end of chapter 17 for this one.**

 **Thank you, wisecrackerme, for being a wonderful beta!**

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Hermione's heart was pounding in her throat as tears threatened to escape her eyes. She'd been wandering around the castle for what felt like hours, but Draco was nowhere to be seen. She was walking up the stairs, resolved to check their rooms once again but with little hope of finding him there, when she bumped into Pansy.

Their gazes met, and it was immediately obvious that both of them had been crying. Hermione had never before realized just how alike the two of them were; not because they had many similarities, but because their differences were of no consequence, not at that exact moment. Gryffindor or Slytherin, Muggleborn or pure-blood… What did it matter, compared to the enormity of them both being human beings with feelings and hopes and dreams and fears, hurt by cruel words from Ronald Weasley. In the present clarity of her thoughts, Hermione knew that the war between them had, in the end, only served to bring them closer. None of them could remain unchanged after what they had been through.

She wasn't sure if there was something reassuring in that thought, or if she detested the very idea.

"Don't let Ron get you down," she said. "He doesn't actually mean those things he says in anger. Trust me, I have a lot of experience with it."

Pansy shrugged, trying and failing to look uncaring. "He said what everyone thinks. Everybody except a handful of Slytherins hates me."

Hermione stepped forward, grasping Pansy's hand and squeezing it.

"Not everyone," she said. "At least not me, not anymore."

Pansy's eyes glistened, and she allowed the touch for a couple of seconds before removing her hand from the other's grasp. "You're a good person, Hermione Granger. Every time I think I've figured you out, I end up underestimating you."

Hermione smiled tremulously. "Right back at you, Parkinson."

"You seem quite troubled yourself, Granger," Pansy said. "I thought you and Draco would have kissed and made up by now."

"I'm afraid it won't be so easy," Hermione admitted. "I said something I really shouldn't have, and now I feel like all the progress we've been making has gone to naught."

"Don't be too sure," Pansy said, unusually kind. "Everyone who knows him can see you've been good for him. Maybe try to look for him in the Astronomy tower. He likes to go there to sulk and drown in self-hatred."

"Thank you," said Hermione, before hurrying off.

Climbing up what seemed to be an endless amount of stairs, Hermione finally arrived at the Astronomy Tower and was relieved to see that Pansy had been right; her husband was standing at the open window, staring up at the night sky.

She wanted to say something to make her presence known, but was too winded to speak. Those stairs were a horrible climb.

"This is the last place I would have thought to find you," she said at last, advancing towards him with caution.

He didn't even turn around, kept looking outside.

"Maybe I didn't want to be found."

"Draco, we need to talk. I'm s—"

She stopped speaking when he turned around and handed her a letter. "You should probably read this," he said, his voice devoid of any emotion.

With some effort, Hermione forced her brain to focus and process what was written on the paper. She was horrified at the thinly veiled prejudice permeating the innocuous looking words, at how, even in a private letter to her own son, Narcissa Malfoy seemed incapable of communicating honestly and openly, at the obvious disdain for everyone that was different.

The last paragraph shocked her, shock that turned to anger when she noticed the date of the letter.

"I'm assuming you have a good reason for not informing me of this before today?" she asked icily.

The look of shame on his face was fleeting, but Hermione knew him well enough to recognize it. The cogs of her mind were whirring at a dizzying speed, connecting the dots to understand the story that Draco was obviously unwilling to share.

"You were worried I'd want to take your mother up on her offer, and so you figured it would be better if I didn't know about it at all."

He didn't respond, which was an answer in itself.

"How could you do that? I trusted you!"

"I'm showing it to you now!" Draco at last reacted.

"Yes, I was getting to that," Hermione said, angrily wiping away the tears on her cheeks. "Why exactly is it you're showing this to me now? Is it because your conscience belatedly realized that lying about this is an unacceptable thing to do? Or is it because of our fight?"

He pursed his lips and avoided her gaze, staring at his own feet instead.

"So first you decide to conceal this rather important piece of information from me, and then you figured you'd use it to your advantage after one bad fight. Is that really all I mean to you? Was tonight so terrible that you'd rather spend an eternity with Astoria than a couple of years with me?"

Her voice broke at the last word, and she was unable to hold back a sob.

"Hermione, I—" Draco started, sounding defeated.

"No," she said decidedly, managing to sound impressive despite crying. "Not a word, Malfoy. I'm going back to my room. I suggest you find another place to sleep tonight, because if I see you there you will regret it."

And once again Draco was alone, his emotions threatening to choke him. He was torn, and it seemed so very fitting that he was once again standing on the Astronomy Tower faced with a decision that might change his life forever. Before Hermione found him, he'd convinced himself this was the right thing to do. They were too different for it to work, and the idea of it working was somehow even more terrifying, because then they'd still separate in five years and he wasn't sure if he could live with that. She'd bounce back and make it work, like she always did, and he'd be left, alone and desolate, forced to watch her move on in a world that didn't accept him anymore. He'd grown far too attached to her already, it was better to end it before he fell too deep.

And if the prospect of marrying Astoria was not a joyful one, at least it was known territory; he knew how pure-blood arranged marriages worked, as did Astoria, and he was sure they'd find a way to be, if not happy, at least content together. It wouldn't be this rollercoaster of emotions, this pain, this jealousy… It would be far more simple, and simple was good, sometimes.

But now that Hermione had walked out on him, perhaps forever, the aching pain in his chest was a pretty clear indication that he'd already fallen far deeper than he thought he had. And the pain in her eyes when she'd realized why he showed her the letter then… Guilt had gnawed at his insides so fiercely he'd wanted to fall on his knees and beg her forgiveness.

He was a stubborn little coward, however, and the fear of being vulnerable had been stronger than his more genuine impulses. As soon as that thought crossed his mind, the lies he'd been telling himself all evening fell apart, like a house of cards tumbling under a gust of wind. A sob wrenched its way out of his chest, and his shoulders shook with the force of it.

It was then that Draco knew he had been mistaken. He'd told himself the decision to push Hermione to make her realize the annulment was the best option had been based on rational arguments, not emotions, but now he could clearly see it was in fact fear that had been his guide all along.

He'd fucked up. Badly. And after the stunt he pulled, Hermione would never want to see him again.

"I'm a fool," he muttered to himself, looking forlorn. "I don't deserve her anyway."

After staying where he was long enough for the cold to settle into his bones, he went to the Slytherin dorm rooms, where Pansy and Blaise were still awake, bickering about another bet they were thinking of making.

"Draco, what's the matter?" Pansy asked upon seeing his face, abruptly interrupting Blaise. "Did Granger find you?"

"Can I crash here?" Draco said, not answering her questions. "Hermione kicked me out."

"Merlin, mate," said Blaise, standing up and walking towards his friend. "You look like an inferi, what happened? Surely it's nothing you two won't be able to figure out?"

Draco laughed, then, a joyless, bitter laugh that promised no good, and shoved his mother's letter, which he had brought with him, into Blaise's hands.

Blaise read it, his brow furrowing more and more as he went on. "Oh gods, Draco, please tell me it's not as bad as I think."

"It's probably worse," Draco answered dejectedly. "Now is there a free bed somewhere?"

"Yeah, sure, take mine, I'll transfigure a couch."

As soon as Draco left the room, Pansy turned to Blaise. "It must be pretty bad if you're willing to give up your bed. What did he do?"

"Let's just say we'll have a lot to do come morning. I'm going to find Ginny. You might want to read this," Blaise said, handing her the letter. "Pay special attention to the ending."

"I will. You go, I'll keep an eye on Draco."

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 **Feel free to review**


	21. Twenty one

**The end approaches - one more chapter and this story will have reached it's end. I'm grateful to all those of you who have stuck with me, and a special shout out to everyone kind enough to leave reviews. I'm very lucky to have such wonderful readers, and I hope this chapter doesn't dissappoint.**

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As soon as Hermione arrived in her room and had warded it off securely, she collapsed; leaning her back against the door she slid down until she sat on the ground, her knees to her chest and her arms around them, as if she was trying to hold herself together.

She felt a stabbing pain in her chest, as if her heart was trying to pry apart her ribs and escape her, to run back to that tower and change what had happened.

Her mind, however, objected stubbornly. He obviously didn't really care about her, and she would not risk being the object of his laughter again. Poor little Hermione Granger, falling in love with a pure-blood. What a fool to think she stood a chance!

When she'd sat there on the ground for what seemed like a very long time, she managed to pull herself together enough to get to bed, where she promptly fell into a fitful sleep.

Loud banging resounded through both her room and dreams when morning arrived, and by the time she woke up enough to realize that the knocking was in fact real, Ginny was yelling as well.

"Let us in, Hermione, or I swear to Merlin I will break down this door! We're worried about you!"

"Go away!" Hermione yelled.

"No!"

Knowing that her friend would have no qualms about acting on her threat, Hermione dragged herself out of bed, hastily threw on some clothes, and opened the door.

She'd expected to see Ginny and Harry, maybe even Ron, but instead she was faced with five people. Ginny, Harry, Luna, Blaise and Theo walked inside despite her protests.

"You look terrible," Blaise said, charming as ever. "Almost as bad as Draco."

Despite herself, she lifted her head and glanced at Blaise with interest when he said that name. "I'm sure he's fine," she said, hoping her voice wouldn't betray the intensity of her feelings.

"He's really not. Seriously, he's about as far from fine as one could possibly be in times without a Dark Lord living in your house," Theo said.

"Hermione, what happened? You two seemed so happy yesterday, and then suddenly that fight, which, honestly, wasn't that much of a surprise given who you two are, but now it seems to have gotten a bit out of hand… What did he do?" Ginny asked, looking at Hermione with compassion. "Do I need to go kick him in his arse?"

"He has been a major idiot, undeniably, but I don't think violence is the answer," Blaise said placatingly.

"He told you what happened?" Hermione asked.

Blaise shook his head. "Not exactly. But I saw the letter, and knowing him, it wasn't exactly difficult to piece together what must have caused your quarrel."

"Then why are you here?" Her voice cracked a bit. "I'm not exactly in the mood to think about damage control and how the press is going to take it, at the moment."

"Merlin, Granger, how heartless do you think I am?" Blaise said, offended. "I'm here to help, of course!"

"Help with what? There's nothing to fix, this time. Draco made his wishes clear, he doesn't care about me."

Harry put his arm behind Hermione's back and gently guided her to the couch. "'Mione, I may not like the guy, or know him very well, but even I can see he's crazy about you. Just give Blaise and Theo a chance to explain, okay?"

Hermione crossed her arms and glared at Blaise first, then Theo, then Blaise again, but remained quiet. Because a part of her desperately needed to hear that she was wrong, which was probably a first for her.

"This is Draco's typical move when something scares him," Theo explained. "He's not very bright when it comes to emotional intelligence, as you know already, and I think last night he realized just how much you could hurt him. So he figured out a way to, you know, nip that in the bud by running away."

"But of course, Draco being the oblivious person we all know him to be, he only found out that it was far too late for any of that when the harm was already done," Blaise finished, looking satisfied with himself.

"That's it?" Hermione asked. "I'm just supposed to accept that explanation and forgive him because he was scared? How do you even know what you say is true? It's not like you have used Legilimency on him."

"He's awfully predictable," Theo answered. "And no, we're not saying you should let him get away with hurting you. We are however saying that he does care for you, quite deeply, and that if you feel the same way then maybe you shouldn't give up yet."

"And why is it that you are sitting here, saying all this, and not him?"

Ginny snorted. "Because if he had been the one showing up at your door, you probably would have attacked first and asked questions later. We figured we'd calm you down before things got even more out of hand."

"Hermione," Luna said, and although she spoke softly, everyone quieted and listened. "Don't let your anger guide you, no matter how justified it is. You and Draco have something special, something that manages to bring out the best in not only the both of you but everyone around you, and it would be a shame to throw all of that out of the window because of Draco's demons. He still has a lot to learn when it comes to relationships, even though he's come a long way already."

Hermione's emotional turmoil slightly deflated at the Ravenclaw's gentle words. "I don't know," she admitted. "I don't know what to do, or what to think, or how we go on from here."

"Talk to him," Harry said. "Try to stay calm and listen. Be honest with him."

Heaving a deep sigh, Hermione nodded. "If he comes to find me, I'll listen. But I doubt he'll come."

Theo and Blaise shared a look. "Just wait for it."

* * *

Hurrying back to their dorms, the two Slytherins quickly went to find Draco, who was being maudlin with Pansy sitting next to him, patting his arm awkwardly.

"Thank Salazar," she said when she noticed Theo and Blaise. "I was about to slap him for being so annoying. I have to say his antics are far less cute now than they were when he was thirteen."

"His antics never were cute," Theo said. "You were simply besotted with him."

"Yes, well, let Granger deal with him, then."

Draco's sigh at her words was so deep, Blaise worried for a moment his lungs would leave his body. "Sure, rub it in," said the sad blond. "She'll never want to see me again."

"See what I've been dealing with?" Pansy exclaimed. "He's impossible!"

"Draco, we just had a talk with your wife," Theo said. "And she said she wanted to hear what you have to say for yourself."

Draco looked at his friend, eyes wide. "How did you convince her?" he asked, not willing to believe it yet.

"We didn't," Blaise admitted. "Lovegood did. Said something about not being guided by anger and all that shite. But mostly, I think Granger is really fond of you, Draco. She doesn't want this to be over any more than you do."

"But mate, you'd better think carefully about what exactly you want. I know your relationship with her has been all backwards, what with getting married before even going on a date, but if you want to keep her you can't use her like your mother wants you to; we both know Hermione won't stand for that," said Theo.

"I don't want to use her," Draco immediately said in protest. "I'm not that person anymore."

"Which is all good and well, Draco darling," said Pansy. "But it takes a bit more than wanting to do the right thing if you actually want to treat her well. The world may have changed, but she is still a Muggle-born and you are pure-blood," –she lifted her hand to stave off Draco's objections– "which means that, if you choose to stay with her, for real this time, you will have to make some sacrifices. You'll have to talk to your mother and face her wrath, you'll probably be alienated by the older generation of pure-bloods; basically you'll get a lot of shit from a lot of people. And if you bolt and give up at every difficult point, like you did now, then you might as well not bother, you know?"

The Pansy Draco had known for the better part of his youth would never have been this insightful, he realized. The war and social rejection had turned her into a graver person, someone who spent a lot of time considering what the world was like and what she thought of it, what was wrong and what was right, and it really was no surprise she and Hermione got along so well nowadays.

Hermione… She'd taught him a lot, in those precious few months they'd been together. He remembered her words at the Slug-party: _I find life to be considerably easier when I only take into account the opinions of people I value, Draco. I refuse to alter anything about myself because someone I hardly know complained about this or that. You might enjoy it if you tried to apply this philosophy, you know. It takes away so much pressure."_

He'd spent most of his time with her living in a bubble; enjoying the advantages while ignoring the challenges, because he could. It wasn't fair towards her, he knew now. She deserved someone just as willing to make a relationship work, not someone who was only in it as long as he could justify it to his mother. Pansy was right; he had to make a decision now. If Hermione was willing to give him another chance, he couldn't fail her like that again. Which brought him to the next question: was he willing to forsake everything he'd ever learned? To relinquish generations of ideals, ideals he'd been raised to believe in?

A startling truth made its way into his mind: somewhere along the way, he'd already stopped believing them. He had read Shakespeare, admired Muggle inventions, talked to Hermione's parents without finding them inferior. Why would he subject himself to a life filled with lies and prejudices only for the sake of what a bunch of old snobs thought of him?

"She was right," he muttered, eyes wide. "It doesn't matter what they think of me." He looked at his friends before continuing, louder: "I mean, you guys don't care, right? And her friends don't care anymore, and my mother loves me too much to disinherit me over this, so she'll get over it in time."

His three friends smiled brightly. "Now you're talking," said Blaise. "Of course we don't care! We all like Hermione, and she's obviously great for you. In fact, I'd respect you far less if you chose all the pure-blood bullshit over that girl!"

"Go to her," Theo said. "Tell her what you just told us. Don't fuck it up this time!"

Without further ado, Draco followed his friends' advice. He almost ran through the castle, earning himself some strange looks from other students, but he didn't care one bit, and _it truly was freeing_!

He faltered upon arriving at the statue that held the entrance to their rooms, however. How would she react? He wouldn't blame her if she was done with him. He'd be crushed and filled with despair, certainly, but he would understand. What if she didn't feel for him the way he felt for her?

Only one way to find out, he supposed, and entered the room.

"Hermione?" he asked cautiously, not discounting the possibility of a hex thrown his way.

"In here!" she answered, her voice coming from their bedroom. She was sitting at the window; truly a splendid picture with the cold winter sun embracing her, giving her a fiery halo that suited her personality. But then he took a closer look at her face, and she seemed dejected, looking as distraught by their fight as he felt.

"I'm sorry," he said, the words tumbling out of his mouth. "I was an idiot. I don't want this to end by the end of the year."

"Then why say so?" she asked.

He approached her slowly. "Because I'm not used to feeling so strongly about someone. The vulnerability I felt terrified me, so I ran away. That's what I've always done. But no more, Hermione. If you would but give me another chance, I'll learn to deal with my problems better. I'm sorry I hurt you, I really am, but surely you must know that—" he stopped, his voice dying in his throat.

"Know what, Draco?" There was a certain something in her eyes as she stood up and walked to him, something hopeful but terrified, and it gave him the strength he needed to continue. He took hold of her hands with his.

"I want more than a temporary fake-marriage with you, Hermione Malfoy. If things had been different, if I had met you in a different world, a world without blood-prejudices, I would have been able to do this properly. I would have asked you on a date and we would have taken the time to get to know each other properly, and only then, when we were both older and wiser, would we have chosen to get married. It would have been an actual wedding at that, and you and my mother would have eternal discussions about the number of guests—"

She laughed at that, a tear rolling down her cheek at the same time. "You're assuming we'd end up married," she said.

"I am, yes," he said, earnestly, hoping she'd understand what he could not say yet.

His revelation surprised her enough that she swayed on her feet and gripped his hands tighter, as if to draw strength from him. It was everything she'd hoped to hear, but never expected him to say.

"I… Draco, I want to believe you, I do, but I don't know if I can."

Draco swallowed the hurt he felt at her words, knowing she was more than entitled to feel this way after how he'd acted.

"I know I messed up last night, and over the whole existence of our relationship by refusing to acknowledge there might be more between us than was appropriate given the circumstances, but have I not also proved that I am not only capable of change, but that I have changed already?"

"Of course you have!" she exclaimed. She must have picked up on the insecurity and guilt behind his calm façade, because she cupped his face in her hands and cut straight to the chase. "I know you are a far better person than you were before the war, and I also know you've started changing long before we got married. But it's one thing to change one's beliefs in private and another one to do it in public. Draco, I believe you care for me, and I believe you no longer care that I am a Muggle-born, but I also know you care for your parents and your reputation. Us being together is already difficult in our little bubble at Hogwarts, surrounded by friends who support us no matter what. Can you imagine how impossible it will be once we're confronted by the rest of the world?"

"I don't give a shit about the rest of the world," Draco answered honestly. "I'm not saying it is going to be easy, and I my life will never be what I thought it would be, but my mother will come around when she sees how happy you make me and she's the only one whose opinion actually matters to me. Hermione, what we share is far too precious to abandon. I know we still have a long way to go, but I think it's worth it. You're worth it."

Unable to resist the earnestness in his eyes and the emotion in his voice any longer, Hermione let go of her apprehensions.

"Just to get things straight," said she, looping her hands around his neck while standing on the tip of her toes. "You want us to stay together not until the end of the year or the next four and a half years and only because we got married by accident, but because you actually like me, and I like you, and then…" she trailed of, unsure how to finish her sentence.

"And the future brings whatever it brings. Maybe we'll still want that divorce in five years, maybe not, but should we really be worrying about that right now?" Draco said wisely, putting his hands on her hips and dragging her closer to him.

She smiled so brightly it dazzled him before dragging his head down for a searing kiss that tasted of promises.

* * *

 **Feel free to let me know what you think, good or bad! And thank you, wisecrackerme, for making sure I don't embarrass myself.**


	22. 22: Of consequences and interviews

**I could give you a handful of excuses for my tardiness, but I fear the truth simply is that I'm really bad at keeping track of time. A million apologies! I must admit this one has been hard to write, I seem to have lost my drive for this story somewhere along the way... Also my beta hasn't been available so please do let me know if you spot a mistake!**

 **I hope it can bring some closure, however, as this is the last chapter of this story. Thanks for reading it!**

* * *

The next morning, Hermione and Draco emerged from their quarters still walking on clouds. When they entered the Great Hall, hand in hand and with broad smiles on their faces, their friends were overjoyed. Blaise ran towards the couple and enveloped the both of them in a very enthusiastic bear hug.

"I am so relieved to see you two have gotten over yourselves!" he exclaimed. "Not that I ever doubted you, of course, but—"

"Blaise," Hermione gasped. "Can't… breathe…"

He let go of them. "Right. Sorry."

"Now that we got that out of the way," Pansy said snidely, elbowing Blaise as she stood next to him, "we have a new problem to fix." She showed them that morning's Prophet.

"What?" Hermione exclaimed when she read the headline.

 **Latest Lady Malfoy caught fraternizing with Quidditch star… Brightest witch of her age tries to rekindle her romance with Viktor Krum.**

The pictures next to the article showed Hermione and Viktor hugging while Draco glared at them, and then another picture of Draco exiting the Three Broomsticks, looking murderous.

"The rest of the article is even worse," Pansy said drily. "The author seems torn between congratulating you on finally realizing Draco is nothing but Death-Eater scum and seeing you as a shameless slut."

Hermione paled. "Seriously? They're ridiculous. I'm sorry, Draco, I truly had not expected it to get this out of hand."

"It's okay," Draco said. "They wouldn't have been able to make this much of a story out of it if I hadn't walked away during our fight. Let's just say that journalist had terrible timing."

"How do we fix this?" Hermione asked, looking at Pansy.

Pansy smiled wryly. "It's time for that interview you two have been postponing for months, I should think."

"I agree," Blaise said. "In fact, I've taken the liberty of arranging a meeting with a journalist this afternoon."

The Malfoys shot him an incredulous look. "You didn't even know if we would still be together until now!" Hermione exclaimed.

"I had faith, Granger," Blaise said, with conviction.

"I guess that interview is our best chance at setting things right," Draco said, although he sounded far from enthusiastic.

"I always thought you loved the spotlight," Harry remarked. "I would have expected you to enjoy interviews."

"Once upon a time I did," Draco answered absentmindedly. "But then the Dark Lord lived in my house, and all I wanted was to be overlooked. Some habits are hard to shake."

Harry looked stricken. "I'm sorry. I can't even imagine how horrible that must've been."

"Anyway," Draco said, as if he only now became aware of what he'd said and wished he hadn't. "At what time and where's the interview, Blaise?"

"In the castle at two o'clock. Potter, I need you to go and convince McGonagall to give us permission to do it here."

After an entreating look from Hermione, Harry complied, albeit grudgingly.

"Do you two need to rehearse what you're going to say?" Ginny asked.

Draco and Hermione exchanged a warm, telling look, both wearing an amused little smile on their face. "I'm sure we'll be convincing," Hermione said, and Draco's smile broadened.

"Although we should probably agree on how and when we got together."

As soon as Harry gave confirmation that their Headmistress wouldn't chase out the reporter when she arrived, Draco and Hermione hurriedly tried to settle on a story, although they somehow managed to disagree about practically every aspect of it.

* * *

"Mister and Mrs. Malfoy, I must say I am delighted and honoured to be sitting here with you two," said the reporter, who had introduced herself as Lydia Mespatita. "The readers of the Daily Prophet are dying to know more about how two people who by all accounts hated each other, so suddenly ended up married! You have been tight-lipped about your marriage until now, would I be correct in assuming that the article about your little spat has prompted you to react?"

As per their previous agreement, Draco was the one who answered. "Neither Hermione nor myself are overly fond of having our private lives so extensively discussed by the public, but given the way the press has chosen to misrepresent our marriage, we believed it necessary to clear some things up."

"Of course!" Lydia said, with a smile so fake Hermione would have liked to slap it off her face. "Why don't we start from the beginning! How is it two people from opposite sides, a Muggle-born and a pure-blooded, one siding with Harry Potter and the other with the Dark Lord, managed to fall in love?"

Here, Hermione jumped in. "I would like to make one thing very clear," she said. "Draco may have been branded by Voldemort, but he had no choice in the matter. He was put in an impossible situation, Voldemort threatened to kill his parents if he didn't comply. He managed that as best he could, and let us not forget that he did not kill Dumbledore. Another instance where his true allegiance showed, perhaps less well known, was when Harry, Ron and I were captured and brought to Malfoy Manor. Draco was asked to identify us, but he lied, bought us the time we needed to escape."

Her little impassioned speech hadn't been planned and soon threatened to make her angry, so Draco grabbed her hand and gave her a cautionary squeeze.

"My wife is one of the most compassionate and understanding people I have ever known," Draco said. "And it was her ability to look further than what is obvious that first brought us together. In sixth year, after I'd been marked and given an impossible task, I was a wreck. The change in my behaviour was noticeable, even to my then enemies. When we were partnered in a Potions project, we suddenly had no choice but to spend a considerable amount of time together."

They had chosen potions because they were both convinced that Slughorn would back their lie, enjoying the idea of being the means to bring them together, even if he could not recall ever doing so.

Hermione continued Draco's story. "My first clue that something was really wrong was the fact that he suddenly acted civil towards me. I had expected insults and protest and anger, but instead he didn't seem to care about anything. One day, when he was exceptionally sombre, we got to talking, and we never really stopped."

"They shared a sappy look, acting as though they were both fondly reminiscing about those times.

"It was the darkest year of my life," said Draco. "I thought nothing would ever be okay again, and yet, somehow, she managed to brighten my days and give me hope again. Of course, at that time, it was impossible for us to be anything more than a secret, stealing moments as we could. I could not, dared not tell her the truth about what burden I was carrying. I knew that, the moment she discovered I was a Death Eater, she'd hate me forever. So I delayed my task for as long as I dared, purposefully failing at repairing that vanishing cabinet, up until the Dark Lord said he'd kill my mother if I didn't figure it out."

"When Harry told me about what happened in the Astronomy Tower, I was heartbroken," Hermione said. "I couldn't believe I had been so fooled by him."

"I was sure this was to be the end of us," Draco added, looking appropriately grave. "But I never stopped loving her. When she was captured and brought to the Manor, I was in such a state of shock I couldn't think clearly. I desperately tried to figure out a way to save her, but came up with nothing, and words cannot describe how happy I was when Dobby showed up and whisked her away."

"Star-crossed lovers!" Lydia exclaimed, sounding giddy. "How delightfully romantic! Tell me, how did you reunite?"

"It was only after the final battle that we saw each other again," Hermione said. "When it was all over and Voldemort was finally defeated, I was so relieved to see Draco alive and well that I forgot about my anger and hurt. I gave him the chance to explain, we talked for hours and hours. It wasn't easy at first, but it soon became clear to me that I'd never stopped loving him."

The smile she aimed at Draco then was so sweet it was sickening. He responded in kind, leaning down to drop a kiss on her cheek. Hermione risked a glance at Lydia, convinced the woman would look either disgusted or suspicious, but the reporter appeared to be ecstatic, envious and endeared at the same time.

Hm. This whole charade was easier than she thought. Of course, there was more truth to their story now than would have been the case if they'd given this interview shortly after they married. How everything had changed since then!

After a few more inane questions and fake answers, the interview was finally over.

"I doubt it will make much of a difference," Hermione said. "I think Blaise and Pansy put far too much faith in this idea. I'm sure no one will read it."

Draco smiled and put his arm around her shoulders, dragging her close to his body. "Darling, the stupid things you say sometimes despite your impressive intelligence will never cease to amaze me. I can guarantee you that, by this time tomorrow, almost everyone in the wizarding world will have read our interview."

"Including your mother."

"Who will scold me for not having done it sooner, no doubt."

Thinking of Narcissa was enough to lower their moods. "You're going to tell her, right?" Hermione asked timidly. "The truth, I mean?"

Draco felt a pang of guilt at her insecurity. If she still doubted that, he really had a lot to make up for. "Of course. She won't like it, though. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if she offered you a rather hefty sum of money to disappear on me."

"Is that right?" asked Hermione, playful again. "And how much would your purity be worth?"

"More money than you've ever seen, I expect," he answered snootily.

"Hm," Hermione said, sounding interested.

Draco looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Granger, don't tell me you can be bought."

"Doesn't everyone have a price?" She answered, laughing.

"Not you," Draco answered. "You're the exception. No one could ever corrupt you with a bribe."

"And even if they could, no bribe would be large enough to make me disappear on you," said Hermione.

Draco leant down and gave her a short and sweet kiss. He kept his forehead against hers and said: "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you. I think I'm one of the few people who can say that getting drunk in Vegas was the best decision in my life." 

* * *

Blaise and Pansy turned out to be right; the next day, Hermione and Draco made the front page. They were the talk of the town, and while quite a few had been endeared and impressed by their unlikely love story, there were still a lot of people who disliked the very idea of it. Thankfully, the lovers did not much care for anyone else's opinion, or they might have been quite distraught by the many rude letters they received. With a little help from their friends, this was a problem that was easily taken care of, however, and given the fact that they both received an apprenticeship at the Ministry it would seem their career options had not harmed beyond repair.

The person who caused them the most trouble was Narcissa, once Draco told her the truth. But even that did not last: while she swore she would disinherit Draco and refused to ever see Hermione again at first, her love for her son soon overcame her ingrained pure-blood notions and, with time, she even came to appreciate her daughter-in-law's brilliance and kindness just as Hermione grew rather fond of Narcissa's wit and insight.

How that miracle came to pass, however, is another story.

 **THE END**

 **A huuuge thank you to every single one of you who has kept me going with reviews, favs and follows! If you want an epilogue, let me know in a review, and you will get one! Although it might take a while before I can post it :)**


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